Nothing Is Easy

Nothing is easy anymore.

Two weeks ago on a Saturday night I logged on to Amazon.com to buy diapers and a sink stopper.

On the following Tuesday I came home and met the following on our back door step: an outfit for our niece in South Dakota, a copy of Grace,Not Perfection, wool boot socks, pine-scented wax cubes and 36 bars of Kirk’sCastile Soap. Thank you, protector of marriages, for placing Cody in Argentina on this particular day.

Last Thursday I set my alarm for 4:30 AM - 30 minutes earlier than normal -  so I could get to work at 7:00 and use the central printer before the rest of the crowd showed up.

I rolled into the office at 8:07 with half-dry hair, no mascara, slacks with no top button, my work belt (as in: the farm) rather than my work belt (as in: career), spit up on my blanket scarf that I still don’t know how to tie and no cell phone. It was 20 minutes away in the diaper bag. You know, in case Caroline wanted to Snapchat someone throughout the day. 

Last night after work I pulled Caroline out of her carseat to find  - - - a mess - - -  completely filling one leg of her sleeper. I stripped her down to nothing but a diaper rash, bathed her, only to remember that her bottles were soaking in the sink which her - - - mess water - - - was draining into. I threw the sleeper down into the basement where the wild things live, boiled bottles, and attempted a supper for Mr. Sankey. An hour later and two bites in I realized that the chicken wasn’t cooked all the way through, the rice was hard as a rock and I forgot to pre-treat aforementioned sleeper. I did two loads of laundry last night and baked the baked chicken dish - - - twice. 

This working-mother-ranch-hand may be a ticked overwhelmed this holiday season? What day of the month is Christmas this year? Still on the 25th? I want to make sure I at least have something for dear Shadow.