Not Even Technology Can Save Me!

I hate that I have become a cliche. Mommy-brain, or call it whatever you want, has sunken in and taken hold. I've been arguing that I just have too much on my mind, which is why I can't keep track of everything, but I'm starting to believe that I'm just becoming stupid.

I write stuff on a paper calendar when I have a scheduled event. Ridiculously though, I sometimes forget to look at it. Not looking at this calendar recently led me to showing up two days early for a vet appointment, 45 minutes away from my house, through rush-hour traffic! Fortunately, the veterinarian took pity on me and saw me anyways.

Last week, I made plans with my friend for her and her kids to come over for dinner. In an effort to be more proactive in keeping my plans straight, I decided to enter the visit in the calendar in my iPhone. I also set the phone to give me a day's notice. I have no idea if the phone ever notified me. I don't even know what this notification would look or sound like. I do know that I probably should have recorded the event on my paper calendar that I at least look at sometimes!

While giving Pumpkin a bike-riding lesson after camp late this afternoon, I noticed a car driving towards my house. I stared at the car for a bit, then turned back to Pumpkin, figuring it was just someone cruising around.

Then the car stopped, the driver rolled down the window, and just stared at me. 'Do I know you?', I wondered. The driver looked familiar, but my friend's funky haircut prevented my mental circuitry from making any useful synapses.

"Did you forget that we were coming?", she asked. I couldn't even manage to TRY to fake it. I could have blamed her hair cut, or lack of familiarity with her car, but I didn't. I just stood there, dumbfounded, contemplating take-out dinner options, wondering what has become of my brain.

But the Dog Came Back the Very Next Day...

When I was 17, my mom went away for a week-end, leaving me in charge of the house while she was gone. She knew that I was going to have my friends over for a drink or twenty, but she trusted me well enough to keep it under control.

Overall I was a trustworthy teenager, but on that Sunday morning after a night of 'debauchery' with my friends, I opened the front door to find our family dog on the porch, waiting to be let in after a night of frolicking and who knows what else. Boy was he dirty! I have no idea how he got out, but I was ever so thankful that he decided to stay close to home. I only confessed this to my mom about ten years ago. I figured that I was too old to get grounded by that time.

Yesterday, Pumpkin couldn't find her favourite stuffed dog. I gave the house a pretty good once over in search of it, but it didn't turn up. I can usually find anything, so I became concerned that she dropped it somewhere in her travels, and that it was gone for good.

This morning when I opened the door to take Pumpkin to camp, we looked down at the front step, and there was her stuffed dog, waiting to come in! I don't know how it got out or how it found it's way back, but I was once again very grateful for yet another locked out dog staying close to home.

I immediately turned to the huz to recount the story of my mom's dog that I locked out all those years ago. He laughed, but there was this unspoken overtone in his demeanor that let me know that it wouldn't be funny if I had done that to his dog. Whatever. I'm not a drunk teenager anymore, so why even think about it. Right?

Later this very same day, after poking my head out the front door to grab the mail, I found myself experiencing the weirdest sensation of not being followed by my shadow dog, Lucky. It was the absence of tripping over her while I puttered around the house that alerted me to something being off. I called out her name, but she was a no-show.

'When I grabbed the mail???', I wondered, as I ran to the front door. Guess who I found on the front step when I opened the door?

Maybe it's Time for a GPS?

I'm notorious for forgetting to carry along necessary papers that I have set aside for various purposes. I often make grocery lists, then find myself calling home from the grocery store, asking whomever is home to read me the list that I inevitably left on the kitchen counter top. I often print out maps to destinations, only to find myself trolling along through foreign neighbourhoods, trying to recall what was on the map which undoubtedly still resides next to the printer.

About 15 minute ago, I took Pumpkin to a birthday party. I didn't bother to print out the map because I'm fairly familiar with the area, but I did manage to forget the invitation with the house address on it. Meh! How hard could it be to find a court, beginning with the letter S, in such a small neighbourhood. I didn't know the house number, but I anticipated that it would be the house with all the cars parked outside.

I found a court, beginning with the letter S, off the street that it was supposed to be off of, where I saw a house decked out with streamers and balloons. Without a doubt that I was at the right place, I pulled in to the driveway and got Pumpkin up to the front door, ready to party.

Too bad that Pumpkin doesn't know eight year old Jordan who is celebrating his birthday at that particular house today.

We had better luck on the next street over. A little variation on the street naming please!

Not That I Do This But...

If you stalk someone on Facebook regularly, it is wise to ensure that you enter his or her name in the search field, and not in your status update field. Having a status update with just the name of your 'stalkee' could be a tad embarrassing.

Creature of Bad Habits

I have a basket on my kitchen counter that I use to throw recyclables into, which I then dump into the main recycling bin whenever the basket gets too full. In theory. Sometimes I keep piling stuff into it, or onto it rather, when the basket is clearly overflowing with papers and containers.

Just to the left of the basket on my counter, I store important items that I need to file, shred, sign, or do something with. As you can imagine, sometimes the overflow from the recycling basket and the 'important items' pile occasionally merge to form one large mess.

Last month, this pre-filing system of mine allowed me to throw out a pack of gift cards. Just yesterday, I realized that I must have thrown out a stack of photographs. Despite my two examples of stupidity above, I seem to be continuing to file important items right next to the recycling.

I guess I'm holding out on change so I can throw out my income tax forms or maybe a winning lottery ticket.

Open Mouth, Insert Foot.

A couple of weeks ago at Pumpkin's gymnastics class, I was chatting with one of the fathers, who had just gotten back from a six week acting job out west. In an attempt to make polite conversation, I asked him what he did when he wasn't acting.

"I just try to get more acting jobs."

Then I felt like an idiot. I wondered if my question sounded like an insult to him, as he was obviously a serious actor, who was successful enough to make a career out of it without having to wait tables to make ends meet. He didn't seem insulted though.

"Actually", he continued, I had a really good five year run on Air Farce.

Now I was impressed! "Oh cool! I used to watch that every Friday night with my inlaws!" Then I started racking my brain for a skit that I remembered him from, and drew a blank. He DID look familiar to me, but not familiar enough for my brain to make any useful connections. Now I felt like an even bigger idiot as I just admitted that I watched it every week, yet I had not recognized him.

"I was usually dressed up as Steven Harper or someone, so I wouldn't expect you to immediately recognize me."

He was being super duper nice, but I still felt like a dumbass.

That night after all things Air Farce had been purged from my consciousness, and I was going about the usual routine of mundane evening tasks, it popped into my head! 'I remember him now!' Thanks to the internet I was able to find this particular skit and verify that it was indeed the man I was speaking with at gymnastics. I'm not sure if he'll be too flattered that I remembered it though...

Check it out here, and be sure that the sound is on.