Scattered

Prior to a certain blessed event, which took place approximately six months ago, I felt like I had a relatively good handle on my life. I was reliable and punctual. I worked full-time, volunteered a good chuck of my time, cooked dinner most nights, made crafts, took classes, learned new things, went running, planned parties, and sent birthday cards on time. You could count on me.

I am wincing as I type this next part, because I KNOW what you are thinking. I know, because I'm thinking it, too. I knew lots of moms who seemed to be in over their heads some days. They appeared a little frazzled and scattered. They were late. They forgot things. I suppose I just assumed maybe they had always been frazzled and scattered, and I didn't attribute much of the whirlwind to the children pulling at their legs. Maybe organization wasn't one of their strengths? Maybe they weren't as neurotic as I was.

I know. How could I not have known?

In the last two months I have:

- Gone to the grocery store and left my list sitting on the counter at home. Three times.

- Gone to dinner with my husband with mascara on my left eye. Only my left eye.

- Pulled away and left the garage door open more times than I can count.

- Gone to church with only one earring in. (That one was just this last Sunday).

- Mailed an empty envelope to my grandmother and left the card sitting on my desk.

- Gone to dinner with my husband with baby puke dried on my back. Yes. On. My. Back. Not until I got home and somehow caught a glimpse of my backside in the mirror did I realize Ben had spit up over my shoulder. I suppose the good news (or sad news, depending on how you look at it) is that Tim never noticed it, either.

And I only have one baby. I'm afraid to imagine what my life could look like with two or three.

The above list probably isn't even the worst of my scatterbrained shenanigans, but it's what comes to me off the top of my (garbled) head.

What has happened to me? Besides, of course, having a baby.