Let me sum up my life right now – I have a pair of underwear in my front pocket.
Enough said, right?
Let me clarify that they are clean underwear, and my underwear. That I found in Maura’s underwear drawer this morning. Because apparently, sorting out the laundry properly is still an emerging skill in this household for everyone.
I also did the mad dash to the sound of the approaching garbage truck this morning, which left Maura slightly startled. There was an exclamation involving curse words, me flying out the door and leaving it open, only to stop halfway down the sidewalk when I saw that some offspring of mine actually put the bins on the curb without me harassing them.
But really, life recently has been a lot of “Oh crap!” and “Shit.” and “How did this get here?” and “OMG how can I lose that? It was JUST HERE!” And trying to knit the right size dog sweater for the tiny beast. And giving up ever having socks because teenage girls think my socks are their socks and steal them all. And trying to be the good mom who cooks dinner and makes sure people have the things they need while feeling like a crap mom who is failing at everything, and not being able to do anything because I’ve hurt my shoulder to the point I need to get an MRI on it tonight, and so I’m feeling four shades of incapable. And then realizing I’m kinda looking forward to being stuck in a tube for however long it takes to get images of my shoulder because those are precious minutes where no one will be bothering me.
Also, I’m behind on laundry…but I’ve been behind on laundry for…oh…let’s see, my oldest is 20, soooo…20 years?
All my socks are probably in the laundry room.
Which makes more sense than the underwear that’s in my pocket.
And now you’re realizing, that’s not a white flag I’m waving.