Scatter brain scatter brain – where are you now? If there was a traffic cop that gave tickets to people whose minds are zooming, my license would be suspended.
“I’m sorry sir, but you need to step out of your mind.”
“You’re doing 90 thoughts a minute in a 20 thoughts per minute zone.”
My wife has been out of town on business the last couple of days. So, my mom took the 90 mile trip up Route 95 and has been staying with the children and me. She is incredibly helpful though she often doesn’t think so. A typical conversation:
“Don’t do the dishes.”
“I got it mom. Don’t worry.”
“Just let them sit. I’ll take care of it.”
“It’s okay mom. Thanks.”
“I don’t know why you don’t let me do anything.”
Meanwhile, her day has consisted of getting the kids ready and off to school, picking up a couple of things at the store, making the beds, taking the kids off the bus, and preparing dinner. A real slacker she is.
Despite my mother’s great help, the house runs differently when my wife is not home. She has a system for everything – “that Thomas train does not belong there.”
My wife is an organizational dynamo. Doctors appointments, school meetings, after school activities – she knows the kids schedules backwards and forwards. I am filled in on this information on a need to know basis. Actually, I remember the information on a need to know basis.
“Don’t you remember? I told there’s a birthday party Sunday, karate on Tuesday, a school meeting on Wednesday, and Friday is a half day.”
“Yes dear. Of course I remember. Well, I forgot about the half day, and I thought the party was next week. But, I got it now. We’ll handle it.”
The look of exasperation on her face and frustration during these conversations is palpable. She’ll rail about how we both have to be on top of things. She’s right, and I am on top of things – somewhat.
Well, this week with her out of town, I really did have to be on top of things. Uggh. I miss her. I want to tag her, say you’re it, and hand off these worries. I’m good at sharing. Anyway, maybe then I can focus, and put the pieces back together of my scattered brain.