It's Time

There's just something about lists that I, in theory, like. In Kindergarten, my list was something like: 1. Napped, 2. Colored, 3. Did not bite anyone., 4. Did not taunt other children. As I matured into a lanky teenager my list was something like: 1. Did homework, 2. Ran, 3. Watched 90210 before Mom got home from work to catch me, 4. Painted toenails, 5. Gave little brother hell.

Even as a youngster, as I checked the items off the list I felt organized, refreshed, and accomplished.

My lists became unmanageable somewhere between Brady's XL head squeezing from my body and studying for seven tests at a time in med school. It's just too overwhelming for me to see my To Do List at this point, and my innermost organized, controlling soul weeps because of it.

I've somehow found my way back to lists, nonetheless. After all, the checklists I have recently drawn up will definitely gain me some sanity. On these lists are items like: 1. Made bed, 2. Cleaned the toilet on Friday, 3. Did Homework, 4. Put clothes in the dirty clothes basket, 5. Brushed teeth. Actually, I am currently typing this with the soothing sound of Brady, who asked if he could start doing chores for allowance, vacuuming, Peyton making his bed, and Avery reading his book in the background.

Oh the sweet, sweet smell of slavery, how you free me.