I’ve been multitasking for years. I’m not sure when I started into this crazy rhythm but I think I can blame my children. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor many years ago, nursing Child #1, reading stories to Child #2 and brushing Child #3’s wet hair. Mothering most definitely stepped up the pace in this quick step of life.
Choosing teaching as a profession didn’t help either. I taught High school for ten years and despite all good intentions, I seldom made it from Point A to Point B without an interruption. I was pulled to Point C to discuss a missed assignment with a student or stopped at Point D to touch base with a teacher about a meeting or delayed at Point E to book a laptop for a class presentation. My mind was always spinning as I juggled all the details of the day and sometimes, I just couldn’t keep all the balls up in the air at the same time.
Sometimes, I feel pretty productive in my multitasking. For example, I am in the living room and I decide to get a book from upstairs. I stand up, straighten the picture of the wall, brush off the dust on the counter, rearrange the pillows on the couch, water the plant with the water bottle in my hand, circle around the kitchen table to put away the extra place mat, put a new bag in the compost pail, hang the extra coat in the closet, close the shoe box, pick off the wax that dripped onto the side table, head up the stairs while picking up the laundry on the second step and the dirty dishtowels on the fourth step, turn the light off and finally, I make it to the top floor. I decide to brush my teeth while I’m near the bathroom, get distracted with the dirty mirror so i quickly do a little Windexing and then I remember that I need to strip the guest room bed. I put all the sheets in the laundry hamper and straighten up the sock drawer that was left open. I decide to put all the laundry away and then I head downstairs…….
…..without my book.
This afternoon, I was driving to Richmond Hill and my phone rang. I answered the phone, switched it to speakerphone and started to talk, while fumbling around my pocket, feeling for my Blue Tooth. I had forgotten to turn down the radio so it was blasting as I talked through the speakerphone. I grabbed my Blue Tooth and stuck it in my ear but it didn’t seem to be working. I was getting frustrated that I couldn’t find the right buttons to push so I pulled it out of my ear and realized that I had put a big piece of Aussie Licorce in my ear.
It’s not my fault. It’s my children’s, right?