We interrupt this...everything

-
           As we were checking out at a store recently, I handed the lady cashier a gift card at the same time a fellow cashier asked her a question. She bobbled around a bit and said, “Sorry, I’m not a good multi-tasker.”
            “You must not be a mom,” I responded, knowing full well she wasn’t because there isn’t a mother around who could survive without being a multi-tasker. This becomes evident to me every time I attempt to do something because it never fails that the instant my brain even tries to focus on one thing, there is someone asking me something else. (While writing this paragraph, my daughter has asked me three times whether or not she will need to wear tennis shoes in the next few days because she needs to know if she will need socks. This apparently is so much more important than this part-time job of mine that my train of thought should be completely derailed.)
            The older our children get, the more difficult the interruptions are. And by more difficult, I mean they require higher-level thinking than when they were younger. Interrupted to change a diaper? Fetch a snack? Pull a toddler off a chandelier? Those were the good old days. Because now their interruptions carry a lot more weight. No chandeliers involved, thankfully.
            I speak mostly of the homework interruption. Because for some unknown reason, the kids still haven’t learned to be totally disgusted by their mother and they tend to sit directly at the kitchen counter with me while I’m making dinner or cleaning up or trying to find something to do that involves not having to do the laundry. With my brain neurons firmly directed at tripling a recipe for these hefty eaters, someone will shout out what have become some of my least favorite words: Mom, can you help me with this question?
            I admit that I loved school, and even that I loved math and science more than the average gal. And for the most part, I was pretty good at it. But while multiplying ¾ teaspoon by three and answering questions about footwear, I simply cannot jump in and help them with some of their homework anymore. As much as they (read: I) say that every bit of math is important, I have not retained how to divide scientific notation from my seventh grade days, which feel like 4.65 x 107 years ago. I also don't remember proofreading marks or abstract vocabulary words, and seeing as I never took Spanish or learned the new funky elementary school math, I’m totally no bueno there.
And I especially can’t do it while I’m thinking about something else. Not that that will ever stop them from asking me, and not that I wouldn’t miss it if they did. Multi-tasking moms somehow shake the dust off the ol’ noggin and just keep going.

Yes, with tennis shoes.


Originally written 9.6.15

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Bedtime

-
            It is a cruel world we live in, when the time for sleep is never the time we want it to be. Ever.             There are, of course, exceptions, but speaking from my own personal experience, I’m not sure I’ve ever really been able to go to sleep exactly when I wanted. I can’t remember a single time (although I also can’t remember what I had for dinner last night) that I’ve had the pleasure of announcing, “I’m tired. I’m going to bed and no one or nothing is going to stop me.”             As tiny infants we know no better and haven’t yet adjusted to any sort of schedule. After living in darkness for all of our lives, we suddenly find ourselves with lights and sun and lovely people who are trying to train us to sleep at times when we really don’t want to, but aren’t sure why.      ...
Read more

Darn the first entry -- THE BOOTS.

-
I hope to, years from now, sift back through the archives to view the very first entry of this blog. And most likely, I'll be disappointed because reading things that you've personally written aren't quite the same as reading what someone else wrote. Just like coffee and salad always taste better when someone else makes it. It's one of those worldly mysteries that not even Nancy Drew could figure out. I'm starting this blog in lieu of my old web site which is now defunct because the whole economy is going somewhere in a handbasket. But this [free!] alternative gives me one great place to post everything and anything I want, combining my old blogs, SmallTownSoup.blogspot.com and OutdoorMama.blogspot.com. But to put something of substance in this first entry of this new blog, I thought I'd tell a bit about the boots you see in the logo. This photo was taken before Annie was big enough to wear shoes, so there's only two little boots following mine. Toby's a...
Read more

Pepe le Pew and Cupid, too

-
            Phenology is the study of seasonal natural phenomena, especially in relation to climate and plant and animal life. Watching the way nature changes with the calendar can be a neat way to track the world and make ridiculous comparisons and conclusions about fragrant animals, diapered babies and bow and arrows, and old cartoons characters with a French accent.             Living in Ohio, we never know what the weather in February will bring. We can assume snow, but even the most astute student of phenology will tell you that weather (not climate) is not what makes most things in nature happen.             So I go to two reliable signs of February: Love and skunks.             I’m sure everyone will agree that February is the month of love, with the whol...
Read more