Thursday, September 29, 2016

Lamest Blog Post Ever

It's hardest for me to start writing when I haven't for a while.

I usually have a big event that sparks my need to "write it out" and explore it in words on the screen, and then it feels easy to just keep going.

It's been a while though and lots of big things have happened, but I was lost in the chaos.  I never forced the moment to sit by my computer and ignore the chaos just long enough to express and process it.

So here we are, it's been over five months.

Nothing written.

I lost my big moments to start with some I am starting where I am.

Seems like a logical place to begin.

The last five months were packed with opportunities to make you laugh and make me see the funny side of the insanity that is my normal life.

The tough moments are my favorite to write about by far...and there were a few pickles this past summer.

The lice situation.

All but Alex had lice, even Max.  It sucked.  It really, really sucked.


I cannot stress enough that you should avoid having a toddler around when remodeling. This was only one of the "situations" we had during the process.

I am so grateful to be done, but that process consumed me and was pure torture with a toddler around.    

I eventually started having my trim carpenter make all my decisions because I simply was not capable of processing anything else.

That sounds absurd, because it is, but it was absolutely how things went down after I started losing all my marbles.

The death of two AC units also brought on a bit of torture in the middle of August, in Texas.  I don't have a photo of any of us sweaty and being extra cranky though because I rarely remember to pull out the camera in those times.

I have my faults.

I do have this photo of my children eating an overpriced meal once I went off the edge and Alex sent us away to a resort nearby where they had air conditioning and people named Robert who will bring you anything you want to drink.

There was definitely more good than bad this summer. 

There was joy in so many moments, in so many places.

Vail, Colorado in a fancy resort.

Bulk wine deliveries.

Neighborhood Swim Team

Quick access to Grandma and Tractor for dinner in a strange German restaurant where most of my children ordered the German classic...spaghetti.

My children helping to write blessings on the wall of a home being built for husband and wife veterans.

An adorable baby in a bucket of beer.

Nothing could top the return of school though. See the joy on Aiden's face?

Even Max has started his time at school with two days a week in a Mother's Day Out program.  It is glorious.

We are seven weeks in though and I am starting to feel lost again.

That initial euphoria of having a few hours to myself and many hours with just one toddler is waning.

I am losing my lunch packing steam.  Bagging my own chips feels like too much effort and I started buying the bagged Sun Chips.  My kids won't touch the onion ones though so I have so many extra bags of onion chips that I feel guilty and try to eat them myself, but I hate them too so I open them and then throw them out so I can at least say I tried. Soon I'll probably slip in to mini bags of Doritos because I can't be bothered to make a special trip for slightly better, prepackaged potato chips and I can't for the life of me stand to bag the chips the night before by myself because I am so over the day. I need some time to myself and bagging chips for my kids at 9 PM is just too much to ask. I WON'T DO IT!

These are the things that are wearing on me.

I realize the pathetic nature of all the words in that chip paragraph. It's just how it's going down right now though.

I feel overwhelmed.  

I feel I'm drowning.

I feel smothered.

I feel this is life and I need to just get a grip and get on with it.

But I am struggling.

But I really don't know why.

In general I can get all of my kids' needs taken care of without too much insanity.  Or a regular amount of insanity that I am comfortable with now that I have four children.

I can cook and take care of the house and laundry.

What it comes down to is I am craving something more.  I am restless. The kids and house are not enough.  They are not me.

What do I want to do though?

Lamest blog post ever.

This is where I am though.  Starting where I am.  No big thing to be funny.  Just me a little lost.

Next post will be more.


Wednesday, April 20, 2016

If Only Aiden Would Commit a Crime

The summer before I met my high school boyfriend, Mike, he was on house arrest.

For the whole summer.

For destruction of federal property...he blew up a mailbox.

He was so cool.

I often think of how he told me he spent that summer talking on the phone and playing volleyball (by himself) up against the shed in his backyard.

He was bored, but he worked it out.

He didn't have a fancy smart phone to access unlimited You Tube clips and games and social media.

This was the early nineties, I don't even know what we were all doing.  I didn't even have cable TV going up so I don't think TV watching was a big pastime.

I swear I have a point.

On Sunday Aiden had his iPad privileges revoked for a week for lying.

Lying is pretty high on our "never do" list.  I

t's listed third on the Dadidakis Family Code, but it's punished like it's first.

Code you say?

Yes, we have a code.

The top reads "in progress," but it's pretty much finished.

No one around here has taken the time to retype it though and place things in the appropriate order, like moving God to the top, because we operate in a certain amount of chaos at all times.

No offense God, we're confident you understand.

Taking away iPad privileges is pretty much the worst thing you can do to Aiden.  He would rather be isolated from friends, locked in his room, or miss any big event than to not get to play Clash of Clans and check his Instagram feed for seven days.

This bothers me.

This bothers me a lot.

In his defense, sort of, I feel in a constant state of panic when my kids are on their iPads so I limit their time anyway.  Being allowed to play on an iPad around here is usually a daily thing, but only after everything else is done, a timer has been set for thirty minutes, and I can't find a way to bribe them in to doing anything else.

We are a little more loose on the weekends or during a lengthy road trip or appointment wait or when I am ill...because my comfort actual does trump the preservation of my children's minds.

Comfort is my idol.

So perhaps I/we have perpetuated the scarcity mentality my boys have for iPad time and have created their panic to be able to get on it.

You can't convince me that they should play it whenever they like though, I tried that last summer and I had pasty white boys that couldn't stop looking at the screen of their iPads long enough to speak to me, go out with a friend, or swim in our pool.

Needless to say, Aiden is a bit down these last few days.

In addition to his loss of iPad, he has started a losing campaign for his own phone.

To be clear, I would be all for giving him a phone to talk to people and make emergency phone calls.

He's not interested in a phone though, he's interested in a smart phone.

Most of his arguments revolve around the fact that "all his friends have them," which isn't true anyway and is totally irrelevant.

My stance is firm.

Aiden usually ends up teary and convinced he has the worst parents ever at the end of one of our discussions about a phone.

(Nothing could scream JOB WELL DONE LESLIE! more than my kid thinking I'm the worst.)

(That's a sincere statement, no sarcasm.  If I am pleasing my kids all the time, I am failing and I am convinced that they will turn in to an ungrateful, lazy, entitled bunch that I will end up supporting for years post thank you.)

Aiden typed up this adorable plea sheet for me a few days ago though.

I commended him for his effort, but quickly told him there is nothing he could do that would change my mind.

This led to more tears.

(I quickly pointed out to him that crying when told no only exemplifies my point of not being mature enough to handle a smart phone. Pointing this out did not help.)

He hated me, his life, his shared bedroom, Max's shouting, Stella's joy, the list could never end.

Tuesday though, he found a baby turtle.

He brought it inside, put it in a bowl and created a little turtle world for it out of a surprisingly appropriate collection of items he found in Stella's room, and focused on the turtle.

This is the type of stuff I want them to do all the time.

(And to be honest, they do love doing these things, and often do them, but not when iPad time is an option.)

So after school yesterday he decided to try to build it a home outside.

Max and I helped because it's fun to hang out with happy Aiden.

I gave him lots of good advice of about how to build the turtle structure.  Aiden complimented my new highlights while we worked and discussed how unfortunate it is for me that I don't have his natural highlights...he's literally one of my favorite people to be around.

Max ate dirt...which was also helpful.

I was so happy he was working on something rather than moping around the house about his horrible lot in life in landing me as a mom.

I had visions of him playing volleyball again our imaginary shed like Mike did and growing as a person because he had to entertain himself and make his own amusement. This turtle and the building of a habitat were going to help prove to Aiden that he didn't need any electronics to be ok for seven days.

He would probably even drop his plea for a phone.

He also would probably make a new list of all the reasons I am the best Mom ever and then write me a poem about how I helped form him in to a self-sufficient, hard-working man.

(This was really a long term vision.  I assume the poem would be something he would read to me at high school graduation, of course.)

Unfortunately, I might not have given the greatest advice and the turtle escaped when Aiden came inside to play a game of chess.

The speed with which that turtle escaped was pathetically fast for the reputation turtles carry.

I assume an owl carried it away.

That might not make sense, but it makes me feel better.

This was a major fail on my part, though in my defense, I never claimed to have actual turtle habitat knowledge.

Aiden was devastated.

He reverted back to his task of moping about his lack of iPad time and his loathing of me.

Does anyone else struggle with their kids finding peace without an electronic?

Is anyone else panicked about making their kids OK without them?

Does anyone have a turtle we could borrow?

Or a volleyball and a shed?

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

What Is Going On?

We had a great spring break.

(I know, spring break was a million years ago for the Texas people reading, but bear with me.)

The kids loved Great Wolf Lodge, we had a good time because the kids were pleased, and Max could roam freely in a lot of places.  

Other than Cole getting picked on in the wave pool, Aiden punching a kid in defense of Cole, a 6 am fire evacuation, Max being terrified of a fake gorilla at dinner and having to leave the restaurant, and half the family being sick when we returned, it was a perfect family getaway.

I realize I sound like I am being sarcastic about the "perfection" part, but if you were actively participating in our current stage of parenting, it really was as close to a perfect trip as we could get.

Two days filled with an acceptable amount of chaos and torture is our current definition of perfect.

Welcome to parenting four young kids. 

Max is so challenging anywhere that he can not be easily contained so a large indoor water park and kid-friendly hotel was as good as we could hope for right now.  We had been at a beautiful house in the hill country the weekend before and Alex and I literally had to walk with him at every moment because there were stairs or a cliff or a hill to open water everywhere so we never could both sit down at the same time.  

We are at the annoying water park stage of life. 

Cole getting picked on was sad, but at the same time it was amazing to hear that Aiden stuck up for him.  Our kids play together, but often fight and find their own things to do at home, but on this trip they all played together.  Even Stella was included in Aiden and Cole's adventures.


Every since spring break though, I can't find a rhythm for life.

I feel somewhat lost, overwhelmed, and always ten steps behind where I should be.

I can't seem to find even thirty minutes to sit down and babble on the internet.   I'm not exactly sure what has happened, but I am reasonably sure it is Max's fault.

He has moments where he plays independently and lets me accomplish few things, but any of my to-do's which involve sitting at the computer are strictly forbidden. 

I assume he is collaborating with Alex to avoid any online shopping.

Or he just hates when he sees me rest. 

I think all my children are most comfortable and secure when I am running around cooking, picking things up, doing laundry, or carrying the youngest child around with me. 

I spend a confusing amount of time picking up bread.  Max enjoys taking items out of the bread drawer so that he can eat the bread, dump it on the floor, or snuggle with it so the bread is more interestingly shaped for making sandwiches. 

I love a good bread match up challenge. 

Thank you Max.

I also spend a lot of time cleaning up pools of liquid I find on the floor. All of them look like water, but actually end up being pee, dog vomit, or sometimes actually water.

Something doesn't seem right when I am smelling a wet paper towel multiple times a day.

This situation is the result of Max bashing his water cup against things and spilling large quantities of water, dogs drinking water too fast because I so rarely keep it out for them because Max will spill it if left unattended, and general dog anxiety from being ignored due to too many other life forms in this house which require more attention than they do.

Rarely is the pee a result of Max's attire pictured above.  I actually do follow him around on the way to the bath.

I have been copying and rewriting the same to-do list on my calendar for three straight weeks.

One of those items is blood work my doctor told me to go do.

That feels important, but apparently it's not more important than the random things I keep doing each day.

I just can't get it together.

It has taken me three days to write this post.  I have zero memory of what the top half of this post is even about now. Did I mention spring break?  Did I tell you I'm scattered?  That's basically all I have in my head right now.

One of my biggest challenges in writing this after I stuck Max in his crib was the computer mouse.

It sounds like an easy task to change the batteries, but it turned in to one of those children's books, "If You Give A Moose a Muffin," or "If You Give a Dog a Donut."

I had to change the batteries so went to the tub where we keep batteries.

I found a receipt I had been looking for over the last few months.

I put the receipt in my wallet and saw a check I forgot to deposit.

I deposit the check via my cell phone and realize my cell service was just disconnected.

I call AT&T to figure out what's going on and they tell me they didn't mean to do that and turn it back on but they need me to check my TV service.

I turn on the TV and realize my DVR isn't working.

I get them to fix the DVR and see the time on the TV and realize Max never ate lunch.

I feed Max lunch and realize my refrigerator is scary dirty.

I clean the fridge and create a giant mess in my kitchen.

Someone please help me stop the madness.

I just want to change a battery, make a sandwich with normal bread, stop smelling wet paper towels, and sit down for a few minutes.

It sounds so simple.

Did I tell you about spring break?

What is going on?

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Max Defies The Odds and Gets Cuter

Yesterday, this happened...

I mean, there are hardly words.

I can not




I feel like I have a new doll.

It's unlike any doll I ever had as a child though because I am overcome with all sorts of mushy feelings the moment I see him in these glasses.

Also, if I had a doll that had glasses it wouldn't take them off.


Like every time I put them on it's head.

I wish I had a doll.

The doctor offered a simple strategy for a smooth adjustment for Max.

When he takes them off, give him a few minutes and try to distract him with something else, then put the glasses back on his head.

Then try to occupy his hands with something he is interested in so he won't reach for the strap.

Then act out a brief portion of the Broadway musical Cats, complete with costumes and appropriate lighting, because babies love Cats and outdated musicals.  5-7 minutes is fine, keep it simple.

Repeat for about a month and then if he still won't keep them on we'll try something else.

Fine, he didn't mention the Cats performance, but he might as well have.  Max has had glasses for approximately seventeen hours, 12 of which he has been asleep and I'm losing my mind trying to entice him to wear them.

This would be so much easier if he were slightly older so I could handle this the way most challenging situations with children should be handled...bribery.

Wear your glasses for one hour and you can have some ice cream.

I offered, but he acted like he didn't even hear me.

I feel like there should be some way to fast track a fourth kid to adjust to glasses.

Perhaps the doctor should have to come live with us for the first 48-72 hours and be in charge of this?

Maybe they could be medically attached to his face?

Perhaps there is a spell we could cast to make him unaware the glasses are there?

I'm open to suggestions here.

Everyone is asking if Max has noticed any difference when wearing them.

I do understand the question, but I would like to remind everyone that Max still aggressively slams his pointer finger on to his high chair tray to demand more food, so he's not so much in to explaining new revelations about his improved sense of sight yet.

Please rephrase the question.

Or don't, because it's amusing every time.

I did assume there would be a big Oprah "a-ha" moment when he put on his glasses.

This was mostly fueled by my friend Keri sending me a video of a baby wearing glasses the first time.  I didn't actually watch the video, because I forgot, but she told me all about the baby hearing his mom's voice and turning to her and getting so excited upon seeing her face clearly for the first time.

It sounded magical so I assumed Max wouldn't let me down.

Please check out the emotional video below.

Despite the fact that he doesn't actually see my face in this video, it's apparent that he really could not have cared less.

He was more excited about that fruit snack than when he saw my face through the glasses the first time.  Perhaps he also thought I magically pulled it out of his ear?

I forced my sweet babysitter to come along on this journey to video this HUGE moment.

Sorry Mandy.

You'll never get those 30 minutes back.

He has had a few periods where we he will wear them for 20 or 30 minutes.  He wore them for about 20 minutes this morning until Stella touched them.

Stella has to go live with my parents for a while now.

I'm kidding.

But seriously I thought about it for a few minutes after that.

I'm sure he'll get used to them and soon it will just be the norm, but can I get a few prayers that this takes less than a month?  I am reasonably confident that I will lose my mind before we reach week three.

That would increase the chance of me dressing like a Cat and singing Memories though....something to consider.

I'll keep you updated.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Keri Says to Look Up...So You Have To

Not sure how it happened, but I am included on a Facebook group for moms with babies.

That doesn't sound overly strange because I have Max, but many of the moms, unlike me, are new to motherhood and still have hope of finding the right answer to all the questions they post.

There is, understandably, a lot of seeking.

Should I buy a jogging stroller? (yes)

What brand of formula is best? (doctor question)

Should I leave my baby home on my vacation?  (always)

Is there a way to properly cut baby bangs? (proper hairstylist)

Should I feel guilty about daycare?  (no)

Should I let my baby cry it out?  (probably)

What is everyone doing with their placentas? (what the what?)

I feel so many things when I read these.

Sympathy, curiosity, confusion, exhaustion, and perhaps at times a little bit like I'm watching a car wreck and can NOT look away.

That placenta discussion was legit.  I had no business reading every response since I won't be faced with the placenta issue anymore, (and there were over 30 comments,) but I was just so curious.

The things you don't know are happening with placentas would astound you.

I want to give everyone on that group a big hug.

Even when someone is just asking a question about milk, it feels wrapped in concern that they are going to screw it all up.  As if failure to make the perfect decision about percentage of milk fat or placenta usage or that baby hair, will divert off the path of a great life.

Hear and your child will be just fine whether you turn that placenta in to a pill or plant it in your yard or forget it came out entirely and leave the hospital with zero placenta thoughts or plans.

The latter happened to me four times and I'm a parenting genius!

Just yesterday I was marveling at my ability to catch Max playing with scissors before any harm actually came to him.  I arrived 5 minutes EARLY to Stella's ballet costume meeting, which means I also knew it was even happening.  I took care of all the things Max threw in the toilet before they clogged the entire thing.  I only let my voice go to that scary place when trying to manage dinner-bath-bed twice last night.


On Sunday I went to a birthday party where this was happening and I didn't even scream.

That's just amazing parenting.

This might surprise you though, I don't have all the answers.  None of us do.

My friends with a lot of kids are just as jacked up as the new Moms, the problems they are concerned about are definitely different...the feelings are the same.

New Mom fear over how many ounces of juice to give her toddler is old Mom fear over how her ten year old is going to work through anger issues.

There are all sorts of challenges and situations you never thought you would have to deal with and suddenly they are making life hard for your child, and you have no clue how to make it better.

And it sucks.

Inadequacy is a real struggle for all parents.

I don't know a single parent who doesn't feel concerned from time to time that they are doing what they should be doing for their kids.

(Except possibly my brother or my Mom.)

It's an overwhelming feeling when their child is struggling, or when they are making a big decision, or when a parent screws up...because we all screw up.

(Except possibly my brother or my Mom.)

I come bearing great news though.

You are in fact totally inadequate!

Who doesn't like being right?

Other good news though?

You don't have to be more than you are!

You can ask your friends and consult books and poll Facebook about a million topics, but feel some confidence in the fact that you are doing great because you are seeking at all.

If you want to do the best for your kids then you probably are. It doesn't mean it will be easy or always turn out perfectly, but your best is enough for your part in all this.

God will take care of the rest.

As my friend Keri is constantly texting me when I complain and whine and stress (I'm really fun to be close friends with,) "Look Up," it will take care of everything.

We'll all keep seeking and asking and posting looking for direction and affirmation and that's OK, but it's still going to feel overwhelming and like we are screwing them up.

We probably aren't, but even if we are a little, every kid needs a good story and all the cool adults have therapists.

Just keep this on repeat...

I am an amazing parent.

I am enough.

Therapy is cool.

I can always look up.

And this 21st birthday video to my kids' nanny from last summer (shout out to the amazing Judy,) makes me think I'm doing it all right, for exactly 23 seconds.

Disclaimer: Cole was sick.

Friday, February 26, 2016

You Just Think I'm Going To Talk About Max's Eye Issues

Remember last year when we thought Cole was sitting close to the TV because he couldn't hear?

And then it turned out he was almost blind?

And his eyes were turning in?

But I had no idea because I'm the type of parent that really tries to foster independence early on for things like sight and hearing and, well, really all the senses.

I'm a free range sense parent.

It's a thing.  Look it up.

You can read the exciting saga of Cole's vision here, but the general idea is that Cole has really poor eyesight and I had no idea.


I've found though, one good thing about having so many children is that you get to have a re-do on these types of mistakes.

(I'll think of another good thing about all these kids some day.  Check back.)

At Max's one year appointment the nurse showed him a black view finder type thing with lights and beams.  When Max looked at the lights, the magic viewfinder told her if there were any deficiencies in his eyesight, which apparently there were.

Like a lot of deficiencies.

On Wednesday, Max had his appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist to have his vision fully checked.  I was told the appointment would take two hours, which I assumed was so long because they were first going to have to teach him how to say more than, "dog," and learn all the letters to take that eye exam.

Turns out that was not necessary.

(It would have been more entertaining if they could have pulled that off though.  So much for doctors being amazing.)

I was very concerned about how this was all going to go down. A two hour medical appointment during nap time with a one year old?

This is my zone though.  I've been taking small people to awful situations to be extremely uncomfortable for over ten years now. I stocked my purse with 6,000 raisins and crackers and food pouches and bars and water cups to be sure I could feed him out of any rough patches.

(I'm pretty sure this is not the correct approach to giving your child a healthy relationship with food, but with the fourth I'm doing whatever I can to minimize trauma to me, not him.)

Max did surprisingly well for the entire visit.  There was a kid's play area!  There was a Nemo!  There were empty offices with tissue boxes that may or may not have tissues any longer!  He sat patiently while the doctor held lens in front of his eyes and shook things and made funny sounds and switched the lighting a lot.

Several people asked me how they can test a baby's vision.  Apparently the doctor can actually just look at the workings of the inner eye while dilated and see what lens is the best match for the baby's vision.   She explained the whole process to me, but it involved a lot of physics and words I didn't remember from when I studied the eye in college.*

As far as I'm concerned, it was a lot of magic.  She could be a witch.

I'm not saying she is.

But I wouldn't be shocked or anything if I found that out later.

She was really nice though. She looked like she believed I understood her physics eye talk, and I needed that.  I was surprised by how much I liked having this very intelligent woman talk to me about complicated things while I nodded and yes'd my way through the conversation.

I, unfortunately, discovered I also felt a surge of pride when filling out the paperwork for Max when I arrived. It almost felt like I was employed in an office.  I had a clip board and a very nice ball point pen and Max was completely distracted by the baby play area so I could focus.

I filled out that entire form with excellent penmanship and 100% accuracy.  I don't want to start bragging or anything, but the receptionist did also comment on how neat my handwriting was AND how quickly I completed the entire task.

I think she was about to offer me a job.

Sorry miss, but I can't work here, I have to feed that small fat baby raisins and prevent him from throwing things in the toilet all day.

I realize this post was supposed to be about Max's eyes.  I really led you to believe that, but is anyone else a little disturbed that I enjoyed filling out a form that much?  What does this say about the lack of actual intellectual stimulation for me these days?

Alex has had several things happen recently with his job which are big accolades for him.  The details are sort of boring, but just trust me, there is stuff and it's really wonderful and I am extraordinarily proud of him.

I also might feel a pang of jealousy mixed in there.

I posted and article on Facebook this week, about the scientific link found between musical education as a child and future success. I tagged my brother with the comment that this was the explanation for our current success as adults.

(We had piano lessons as children.)

His response was "I didn't know Alex took piano lessons."

See what he did there?

My "success" is really just because I married someone successful?


It stings a bit because this is something I have been thinking about a lot lately.

I am a great Mom.  It's important.  It works well for our family.

Yada, yada, yada.

It's what I chose and what I want.  Childcare and extra chaos for four so I can go work at the eye doctor's office?

(Let's pretend she really did offer me a job.)

No thank you.

Did anyone else read this recent article, "Having It All Kinda Sucks?"

That's totally how I think my life would be, plus two more kids.  I don't want it.

Great for some, not for me.

Maybe that's why I keep writing here about my daughter's destruction of my wedding album and how I can't keep my calendar straight?

My kids are my success, but they can't be all of it.

Currently, it's my personal success every time I fill out a form, actually make it to something on time (or at all), and every time I finish writing something  good or bad because it's really freakin' hard to do with four kids.

For right now I have no choice but to focus on doing this every day stuff well, finding my successes here.

Please watch the following video on how successful I am at the following; comedy, silly words, nutrition, cute baby chairs, film, and child choking safety.

And I killed it on getting Max's vision checked. It took me 7 years to discover and rectify Cole's eye problems, but Max I have taken care of in less than 13 months.

Like a BOSS.

His actual glasses are blue-grey and won't be here for another week.  

*I actually didn't ever study the eye in college.  But I totally could have.**

**Probably not.  That ophthalmologist was really, really smart and it sounded really boring.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

What Time Is It?

This past weekend Aiden played in a soccer tournament.  This consisted of three games over Saturday and Sunday.

In the days leading up to the tournament I received about eight texts about the times and locations of games and the changes of the previously stated times and the locations.  I have an app on my phone with the schedule, a group text, a paper planner where I wrote all the times (in pencil,) and I had approximately five or six emails breaking down the schedule.

It is fair to say I was given ample information.

So obviously I told my whole family that our Sunday game started at 1:30.

What the hell?

See, I do this a lot. I frequently am off on a start time by thirty minutes or an hour for parties, dinners, games, meetings, appointments.  Sometimes I show up at the end time instead of the start time, which is extra fun.  It's like a little party trick I have.

But I missed the party because I decided it started at 3:00 instead of 1:00.

I'm that fun.  Alex loves this about me.

I haven't always been like this. I used to be able to put an event on my calendar, check it the day before and properly register the start time and location in my brain, then the next day execute arrival more or less on time.

I also used to pee without anyone else in the restroom.

Those days are gone.

I assume it's the trauma of all the child producing which in turn creates all the chaos in my brain, but I could be wrong.  I have several other excuses on any given day depending on what mood I am in.  It might be Alex's fault (a timeless favorite,) the overuse of technology in modern society, my lack of a pretty white office, my lack of  a manicure.

(It sounds like there couldn't possibly be a correlation to a manicure there, but you underestimate my power to draw connections where none exists. It's another gift of mine.  It's more fun that the inability to understand the start time of an event and has fewer negative consequences since usually no one believes the conclusions I come up with, but I can do it.)

What usually happens when I screw up the time is that I just pick a new time that I believe the event should have been scheduled for in the first place.

For example, the game this Sunday would have worked a lot more seamlessly in to my family's schedule at 1:30 to give us plenty of time to return from church where we were praying for the bad people who scheduled the game at 1:00.

We missed a birthday party entirely because I remembered the invitation reading that pizza would be served so I told myself the party was from 5-7 instead of 3-5, because dinner time obviously falls between 5-7 and not 3-5.  Who is making these plans? Why am I not consulted?

We can just say this is a quirk of mine and move on.  I could devise a new system for remembering start times, though I usually feel extremely confident in the times I have in my head, until I learn they are incorrect.

Perhaps Alex should start double and triple checking invites and emails for all our events?

There isn't really a big takeaway from this post other than a general public service announcement that if you would like me, or a member of my family, somewhere at a certain time, it might be a good idea to text me an hour or so prior to the start time.

Also, that I make mistakes.

I might be annoying to make plans with these days.

That mistakes happen to everyone.

Grant grace.

To me.

Love one another.

Including me and my late family.

See all those amazing connections I just made?