The List~ This is a post that I first wrote for my good friend, Kit at blogging dangerously, but I can feel the weight of the list breathing me in and breathing me out. It is time to share the list here—–P.S. It’s my birthday today and I will write a post about it later but I would love to cross some things off the list. Reach my goal of 1000 GFC followers on here, 3000 Twitter followers and 500 FB fans! If you love the TRUTH about Motherhood please consider following! XO Debi

Racheal Ashe

The List

Seems more and more often lately, I’ve been finding myself in the most advanced stages of sleep deprivation. I wish I could blame it on late nights of steamy sex with my Big Guy in the conjugalorium or I wish I could blame it on a colicky newborn, no who am I kidding, no way in hell do I wish I could blame it on a colicky newborn. I can’t even blame it on a baby that needs to be breastfed on the regular. No feverish child. No worrisome thought or situation that needs my immediate attention. No, it’s much worse than that. My near-fatal case of sleep deprivation is caused by my incessant need to make list of all the things that I perpetually need to not forget to do. The moment my head hits the pillow, every single thought of the day comes rushing to the surface and I lie there with my eyes wide open as the lists appear in every direction I look. Apparently, in my house, the hours between 11 pm and 1 am are the time period in which I get my one and only reprieve from Mommy brain. It is the time of the list; unending, unforgiving, unrelenting…the list.

These are not the list of wishes that I want to attain; the list of groceries I need to buy or even the list , the endless list of work that I need to complete at any given time. No, they are the list of my life.  You know the list of all the shit that any mother has to do the next day, compounded by all the things I don’t want to forget, mix in some groceries, a laundry list of paperwork to be returned to schools, drop-offs and pickups, baths, errands, classes, obligations, playdates, fruit market, work, envelopes for church to be filled, parent-teacher meetings, auditions, uniforms to be pressed, lunches to be made, bills to schedule, cards to mail, birthdays, anniversaries, funerals and weddings and oh yeah, all the things that I must remember not to forget to make sure that my kids don’t end up in ten years worth of therapy because I forgot to put dress down day on the fucking LIST!

The List: Must Remember to:

Buy organic milk. Reach 3000 Twitter followers.Get shoes out of trunk. Bobby pins. Sign up to volunteer. Talk to teacher. Wash jeans sparkly jeans and peace sign shirt (long sleeve not short sleeve) for dress down day. Dress down day. Girl Scouts. Pick up tickets for the ballet. Pick up deodorant for husband. Buy birthday gift for Suzy. Take dog to vet. Call sister to wish happy birthday. Buy shampoo. And conditioner. Oh yeah, Dress down day. Tell husband car is making funny noise. Call the mechanic. Confirm lunch date with friend. Find a new gynecologist. Call the insurance company about bill for unknown service. Refill blood pressure medicine. Dress down day. Make healthy lunch for girls.Reach 500 FB fans. Go to the grocery store to buy healthy food, everything in pantry is crap. Call my mom. Ask doctor for Xanax. Put gas in the car. Do homework with Ella. Make cookies for bake sale. Milk the cows. Go to bakery. Buy cookies. Feed the chickens. Ballet. Iron shirts for husband. Shit! Show up for work. Shave legs. Wax lip. Breathe. Buy wine. Answer emails. Drink wine. Meet husband for intimate time in spare room. Teach Abbi the alphabet. Get girls to sleep in their own beds. Dress down day. Return field trip permission slip. Play date with neighbor. Piano. Student of the week. Zoo. Write a book. Take a nap. Take a shower. Eat. Rinse. Repeat. Hug the kids. Chicago. Halloween costumes. Birthday. Reach 1000 GFC followers on my blog. Dress. Down. Day!

That’s the list for a Monday. If I could just forget all of the things that I need to remember, I could have an 87% chance of surviving my stage 4 sleep deprivation. As it stands, just when I think I’ve forgotten the list and I’ve resigned myself over to the peaceful bliss of Mommy brain, I remember every thought, errand and conversation of the day…the list can’t be killed. Once again, I find myself wide-awake at the wee hours of the night. How can I be expected to raise proper little people with all the list running through my head and holding my sleep hostage? Tonight, I’ll have a glass of wine (or two) and pray for the list to get lost on its journey. Mommy brain, don’t fail me now.

The List that Never Sleeps

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