Sunday, August 8, 2010

List, Schmlists

Have you ever noticed how people blame their, um...idiosyncrasies on their last name? Like, my family is very forgetful. My mother is not, so it’s all put on my father. (poor guy) Whenever he loses something or forgets something, she just sighs and rolls her eyes, as she has been dealing with it for 40+ years. When one of us kids forgets something, she sighs and rolls her eyes and says, “It’s the G in you.” (I won’t even let him blame brain surgery on forgetting things…I tell him he was that way before.) Usually the forgetfulness involves wallets and car keys, and at the most inopportune of times.

My in-laws have a very ethnic last name. So much so, that people seem to think that I’m Irish, even though I married into the family and obviously am not red-haired and freckled, or a dark-haired beauty. If I get mad about something, it’s “Oh…you have an Irish temper.” Yeah…I’m mostly German, not a spec of Irish. But that’s beside the point.

I will say that when it is convenient, I’ll blame a temper tantrum on my “heritage.” It’s easy, and people seem to accept it. My husband and his father love to blame things on their last name, from restless legs to holding grudges. (I say nurture over nature, but whatever.) One thing they don’t blame on their last name is forgetfulness. Sorry dad, I guess we do have to blame you.

Since I tend to be so forgetful, and it has gotten much, much worse since I was a kid, I make lists. (My mom actually grounded me from staying the night at my friends’ houses because I couldn't come home without leaving something there. The last straw was my glasses and I think it made us late for church. I also once went to a slumber party and forgot to take my sleeping bag and pillow.) Now, if it isn’t on the list, then it doesn’t get done. The downfalls of “being organized.”

I make lists for everything. At work, I make a list if I have a lot to get done in a particular day or week. For month end, I have a three page list. When we leave the lake, I make a list of the things that we need to bring back the next weekend. (I also have an issue not losing that list.) And now, since I am due in 11 days, I have a list of things that need to be done to get ready for the baby.

The vague part of this list included moving our office to the basement and making our office Sam’s new room. This involved painting both rooms, as well as moving massive quantities of random crap to our basement. That in itself took several hours for 2 grown men to do. I was shocked that we had so much stored in the office. All of which is now scattered around my basement. As well as Sam’s toys, which were in the playroom which is now the new office.

So let’s recap, in 11 days or less, I’ll have a new baby. And Sam is still in the nursery, the furniture that I bought is still in our garage, and my basement is still trashed. I’m not panicking or anything. We did go to the lake this weekend instead of staying home and work like responsible adults.

I’ve decided to not look at my lists anymore. That’ll make everything better. Maybe I can just forget everything that is on them.

2 comments:

me said...

I blame my dad for my inability to spell.

Anonymous said...

Dad says. I had a comment but forget what it was.