25.1.10

Before you go thinking that I'll make a good mother, consider this:




You know what? I'm just gonna say it. Sometimes it's scary being me. Sometimes, I really wonder how I've gotten this far in life without burning down anyone's house or permanently injuring myself or anyone else. Writing that post yesterday had me thinking about how much I want to be a parent, it had me daydreaming about wanting to give a plastic train to sweet little ungrateful Johnny someday. "Ahhh, it will be so wonderful to be a parent someday," I sat thinking, completely absorbed in my own little world. There were these sweet thoughts being played in the backdrop of my mind, along with some French sounding accordion/piano music, images of me and Johnny skipping in the park as I wondered to myself: "Will I be a good mother?..."

Meanwhile, Jason steps out of the shower and shouts to me, "Hey, are the cookies ready?"
(insert here the sound of a record player being abruptly stopped. you know, the needle on the record scratching sound...)

GASP!!! "The cookies!!!"

Inner voice as I run to the kitchen: Yeah, the cookies, doofus brains. Remember? The ones you put in the oven about 17 minutes ago?

As I stood over the blackened cookies, my head and heart sank as I realized the obvious answer to that rhetorical question I asked myself earlier is, "NO!" Seriously, guys, how is it that respectable, reasonable families have allowed me to be a nanny to their children? How can I ever expect to successfully raise children when I can put cookies in the oven one minute and completely forget that they exist the next minute? What if I do that with my children? What if I go into my own little world and just plain forget that not only do they exist but that I am supposed to be taking care of them? As I stood there sulking, I asked Jason, "Why do you suppose my brain is made of mush?"

"It's not made of mush, Tracy. You have a beautiful mind, you just have no control over it."

Sigh. Pout. Sigh.

I know what you're thinking, at least those of you who don't know me so well, (the ones who do are like, "Uhhh, duhh, we already know you are a space cadet and we are all also wondering how it is you've made it this far in life...") geez, it's just a few burnt cookies, don't beat yourself up about it. But, really these cookies represent just one tiny ant in the gigantic ant colony that is my flightiness. I really struggle with staying in the moment and staying out of my crazy whirlwind brain sometimes. How do you do it? I really want to hear some words of wisdom from you. My future children are counting on you, so make it good. (No pressure, though;)

2 comments:

cindy said...

Sorry, but I think it's hereditary!
I, your mom, am somewhat like that and you have an aunt that is very much like that. And between the two of us we now have 5 great adult children. So don't sweat it! Love you!

cindy said...

P.S. Maybe that's why I prefer to just eat the cookie dough without ever baking it! :)