Lost at Home

Is it possible to become so immersed in one's momotony (sorry for the very lame pun - I'm decaffeinated this morning) that all sense of purpose and direction are lost, even in the living room? Surely I am not the only mom who can stand in the living room completely baffled about what she was going to do next.

This has been on my mind, what's left of it anyway, for at least 3 minutes. I realized that I am having problems with momotony through several key incidents:

1) I am still searching my brain cell for the word that describes the blanket I used last night. I can't remember what it's called - it's warm, fuzzy and not flannel. It's not velour, nor is it .... AH!!!! It's fleece! It just came to me!!! I've been trying to recall the word "fleece" since about 8:30 this morning. The remembering of this lovely, fuzzy word is another reminder that I've lost my direction. What happened to that fabulous memory of mine? I can remember old addresses and phone numbers but I can't remember what fleece is?

2) As I covered my finally-producing-pepper plants to protect them from frost last night, it occurred to me that I can (and do) go days without going outside for more than 30 seconds. Putting Wonder Boy on and off the bus doesn't really count in my book. I also thought about the fact that some weeks I do not drive - at all. (Read that: I don't leave my house. And I'm not a shut in.)

3) Looking at the same walls and the same toys and dealing with the same tasks every single day, day in and day out, has become so routine that I no longer see a lot of what needs doing. There's a spark missing many days and what should be joyous isn't. I'm limited by too many choices and no choices at all.

4) We decided to have a yard sale. Today. Except we didn't do it. Between work, strep throat, doctor appointments, school, dishes, and all the other momotony, it just got forgotten. A lot of things get forgotten. Sometimes, I forget me, and not in the selfless-wrapped-up-in-my-vocation way. I just forget to pay attention to me.

I was going somewhere with this. Hang on while I walk back to the living room, where I was when I thought of it (whatever "it" is)... maybe it'll come to me.