December 16, 2009
This morning, I faced one of the most daunting landscapes existent within the U.S. Though this geographical wonder is not yet listed in public school text books or recognized by mountain climbers world wide, it weekly approaches World Book proportions and threatens to erupt. This towering precipice breeds over my kitchen sink. Ladies and Gentleman, I give you: Mount Saint Dishmore.
Sadly, I live in fairly consistent bondage to this mountain. Why is this you ask? Is it because you do not have a dishwasher? (I don't.) Is it because you procrastinate shamefully? (Maybe.) Is it because you can't afford paper products at the moment? (Somewhat). As is parenthetically evident, all of these situations do play into my conundrum; however, my #1 problem can be summed up in a singular concept: DISTRACTION!
Let me map out my morning quest of the mountain, and perhaps you will understand.
7:00--Cleaned out enough of sink to put coffee pot under tap. Poured water in pot. Made Wade's lunch with my eyes shut. Hope it turned out all right for him.
7:15--Finished clearing one side of the sink. Ran hot, soapy water in the sink and put first round of dishes in the suds. Picked up first dish.
7:15 and 5 seconds--"Mommy, I be thirsty."
7:16--Thirsty child given juice. Picked up same dish.
7:16 and 5 seconds--"Mommy, I be cold. Can I sit on your lap?
7:45--Coffee finished. Child warmed. Finished first dish. Added coffee cup to suds. Water is cold.
7:50--New hot, soapy water in sink. Washed coffee cup.
7:50 and five seconds--"Mommy. Maggie is awake. Get her!"
7:51--Maggie retrieved from crib, changed, and given bottle. Now I have 20 minutes until my first little charge arrives. I had better get dressed, and while I'm at it, I'd better tidy the bedroom, because that's where the baby sleeps, and then I decided I'd better toss in a load of laundry because I wouldn't be able to after baby arrived and decided to get around to sleeping.
9:00--Me dressed, children dressed, breakfast accomplished, baby sleeping. Add breakfast dishes to sink. Water is cold.
9:01--New hot, sudsy water in sink. Pick up a handful of silverware.
9:01 and five seconds--"Mommy! Maggie is touching the buttons!"
9:02--Rinse silver wear. Wash out bottle.
9:02 and five seconds--"Mommy! Maggie is touching my train!"
9:03--Rinse bottle. Pick up plate. All's quiet. Ahhhhhh.
9:08--Strangely quiet. One sinkful done. New round in the suds. The splashing I hear is not mine. "Mommy! Maggie is in the toilet!"
9:20--Maggie changed, sanitized, and snapped into her carseat for a time out. Another sink accomplished. The mountain is slightly diminished.
9:30--Maggie moved from time out to the pack and play. She doth protest. More dishes finished.
9:35--Baby awake. I feel a bit off.
9:35 and thirty seconds--Baby most displeased but forced to wait while I toss up my multivitamin. Apparently, it did not agree with me.
9:38--"Mommy? Why can't Maggie play in the toilet if you can?
9:40--Wade in the pack 'n play with Maggie. Baby desires a live cradle, hence, the mountain is abandoned yet again.
Happily, and thanks entirely to my grandmother, the mountain did meet it's match, but in the midst of the climb, I had time to consider how much my past failures in the health and nutrition department had to do with distractions. In the past I've spent incredible amounts of time planning how I was going to be successful, but when I actually got into the plan, I was easily waylaid and defeated. These distractions snowballed until I finally abandoned my latest effort entirely.
Consequently, if you are wondering why I don't seem to have a plan, and why what little plan I have seems to be developing so slowly, it is because I am determined to concentrate on one little step, one little day, one little bite at a time. I'm not gonna stare up the mountain. Instead, I'm not only going to stay focused--even in the face of set-backs--but I'm also going to take each victory for what it is--not a tiny step in the shadow of a whole mountain, but a strong mile in the light of the day's sojourn.
So, come on everybody. Join Momdi on the mountain. Oooooooooom. Oooooooooooom.
Visualize the crumbling mountain, the crumbling, crumbling. Oh dear. I'm getting cookie here.
Anybody else visualizing cookie?!