If I need to get something done, it has to go on a list…at least that’s the way it used to be.
A look though some baby memorabilia recently saw me happen upon the to-do list for my first born’s combined Christening and 1st birthday. The day was planned in neat 30 minute slots, oh so controlling but on a very busy day it was oh so effective.
I’ve always been a list maker, and quite often I’m better at making the list than I am about completing it, but lists keep me sane, they help me organise my busy brain, and with four small ( but ridiculously loud) voices constantly in my ear they help me keep all the balls in the air.
Recently though there has been slippage. Despite an addiction to buying ALL the notebooks, I’ve been slower at putting things into them. I’ve been flirting unsuccessfully with online list keepers and my constant culinary companion, the weekly meal plan has been cast aside for a more fly by the seat of our pants approach.
None of it is working.
A small notification popping up on my phone has none of the power of an actual list staring back at me from the notice board ( yes I know lists don’t really stare…it just kind of feels that way) complete with inanimate judgement, when a tick of completion hasn’t been applied.
Rumaging in the fridge with four children behind you threatening cannibalism is not conducive to any sort of meal time delights.
Leaving it until the third day of camp to finally have ALL the equipment gathered doesn’t win you any parenting medals.
And so that tiny act of rebellion, that kick-back against needing to be über organised for so many years with small children, the abandonment of the list, has not gone well. I’m not struggling with what I need to get done, I’m just struggling to flipping remember it .
Maybe it’s years of conditioning, maybe it’s the need to be in control or maybe it’s just old age!!!
Whatever the reason…in this house, lists are back.