I was a master multitasker. At least I like to think I was, and WAS
being the key word here. Now? Not so much.
Now, I am not much of a multitasker at all. Much as I hate to admit it, I have lost one
of my favorite Wonder Woman powers. These
days I am pretty much a one task at a time kind of gal. These days, even the slightest interruption to the task at hand can result in a somewhat frantic request for a brief reprieve… “Just a sec”. I literally can’t put
socks on and respond to a simple question at the same time. And this development is one big fat slice
humble pie for me. Me, who once prided
myself on my “I am woman see me multitask” abilities. Now I am “One Task Winnie”. Pooh...
I didn’t even notice it at first…the loss of
my multitaskyness. Kind of like glasses.
I look back at pictures of myself without glasses and I am amazed. Was there really actually a time not so long
ago that I could function without glasses, without bifocals, no less? A time where I could safely shampoo and
condition in the proper order without first having to strategically place the
bottles so that I would know which was which?
Those were the days… And there must have been an actual day. An hour.
A minute. A second even. That one second where I could still see the
writing on the bottles without glasses and then the next…that second where I couldn’t.
Sometimes I think about calves (the cow kind, not the leg
kind) in that same way. I often marvel
at the idea that if I had a baby cow, I could pick up that baby cow every day,
three times a day even, and then suddenly there would be that moment, that
point where my calf became cow and my carrying days would be over. That one pound, that one ounce even, and the
scales would be tipped. When
I had my kids, I could pick them up, hold them, carry them. With ease.
With one arm even. I could walk around for hours, baby on board. No problem. Now? Not so much. During those early years, I
picked my kids up and carried them around every day, all the time. For
years. Of course, I stopped picking them up
and carrying them around well before I was completely physically unable,
because obviously, carrying a 14 year old around would be odd. But still, even
if I had never stopped by choice, even if I had gone on picking them up and
carrying them around day after day after day, at some point, at some moment, I
would have failed. There had to have been that calf to cow moment. That split
second in time where I transitioned from “can” to “can’t’ and whenever that
moment was, it came and went and I didn’t notice. Yes, Yes, I can likely still lift one of my
kids off the ground if I really really try, but barely, and carry them around? Nope, no way. That ship sailed a long time ago. And it was gone in the blink of an eye. In just a second...
I didn’t notice at first that I had transitioned into a life of
monotasking, or at least I tried not to admit it. “Mom, what time are we leaving?” Just a sec, Son, I’m tying my shoe. “When will dinner be ready?” Just a sec. “Mom” Just a sec, just a sec, just a
sec. It has become my go to phrase. My family finds it irritating but
at least somewhat amusing and for sure good source of "poke fun at mom" material. No longer can I cook dinner, watch the news,
solve complex algebra equations, and plan the week end camping trip simultaneously. Somewhere
along the line I lost that skill. Age, Mad Cow, not sure of the cause, but I
miss it. I liked being a
multitasker. I sort of prided myself on
my ability. It made me feel like a Get
Shit Done kind of gal. Not that I think single focus bad. Actually, I think focusing
on one thing at a time can be a great thing and I think things get done and
probably better quality is often the result.
But for better or worse, my personality has often lead me down the path of quantity in favor
of quality. If some is good, more is
better. That was my food motto for sure.
Before the monster.
And so I am learning
to adjust. Awareness being the first
step. I know now that I can’t have a
conversation of any consequence while performing another task. But I don’t always remember in the
moment. I am a work in progress for
sure. In my defense, I went from being a juggler of
multiple balls to mostly only being able to keep a single ball afloat. And sometimes I forget. I forget to line up the bottles so that shampoo comes before conditioning. And instead of carefully placing all of my balls in a line so that I can pick up one at a time and give each their due attention, I forget, and I
throw my balls in the air. All at once. Fully expecting to dazzle the world with
my juggling talents. And my balls drop.
And they roll away. Under the couch or in a dark corner. I eventually realize my mistake and set about
picking up the scattered balls and I find some, but inevitably, not all. And that thing I was doing goes on the "just a sec" list and just a second becomes just a minute, which
becomes pretty soon, which becomes wait, what?
On
May 18th, 2015, I wrote about the lemons. And on that
day, on May 18th 2015, some 861 days, 13 hours, 39 minutes and 16
seconds ago, when I posted Laughing at Lemons, my next blog entry was already on my
mind. I was busy composing it in my head. It was one of many balls in the air. And I would
write my next entry soon…very soon. And then, then the balls came down. And that one rolled out of sight. I have noticed it peeking out from the shadows now and again over the past 861 days, but rather than picking it up, I gave it a little kick. I kicked it further out of reach, further out of sight. When I would see it and kick it, I told myself I would pick it up in a little bit...in just a sec.
My sister and I are doing a challenge. In a nutshell it is
about setting some goals and some form of public humiliation for failure to achieve said
goals. More on that later. Anyway, a little over a week ago my daughter
texted me.
Daughter: You should blog again…it should be one of your new health goals…mental
health
And in that instant, my daughter
had found the ball. The one I had
dropped and had then ignored and even kicked aside. And she gently dusted it off and rolled it in my direction. I don’t remember exactly when or how I
dropped it, and I can't imagine why I didn't try harder to find it or why when spotted, I chose to push it further away. One second I had been a blogger and the next second I wasn’t. And now there it was…the ball. She rolled it right out in front of me, impossible to ignore. And I picked it up.
Me: Good idea, I will make it a goal.
Daughter: cool
Me: I have my first title.
Daughter: What is it?
Me: Just a sec.
Daughter:
Me:
Daughter:
Me: That's the title.
Daughter: Oh, lol!
Just a sec…
