Tonight Ryan and I were sitting on our respective couches, working on work work on our respective laptops, when Ryan mused without looking up from the screen "Weren't you supposed to take muffins in for Wes's class tomorrow?"
Ryan jumped up. "Not to worry, I need to do some procrastinating!" He ran off to the kitchen and whipped up some cinnamon streudel muffins FROM SCRATCH.
While he was doing that I made the kids' lunches for tomorrow and THEN I remembered that Wes ALSO needed eight MORE Valentines to distribute among his diminutive friends. His class is different every day and he attends three days, so that's three parties. I only signed up to bring something on one day because I am a slacker. And then I almost forgot to do that one thing!
All this after I had to write in Charlie's class mascot's journal about the thrilling, educational weekend we had together (We ate at Rosa's! We got haircuts! Mama fell asleep standing up!) while sitting in the parking lot of the preschool before dropoff. Or, more accurately, DURING dropoff. Because even though we carted that bee around with us for four days, it completely slipped my mind this morning.
Have I told you how many times Wes's teacher has had to ask me for more diapers? It's shameful. And let's not talk about shot records and wellness statements, which might as well be a second dissertation as hard as it seems to be for me to get them turned in on time (or ever).
Preschool is not the only victim of my absentmindedness. I left my entire box of ungraded homework at school over the weekend and then this morning had to grade a stack of assignments WHILE I WAS PUMPING so I could hand them back today in advance of their first test on Thursday. I forgot the milk storage bags for the pump so I had to stick the whole pump into the office refrigerator while I taught then drive home holding it with my legs so it wouldn't spill (after an awkward walk from my building to my car HOLDING A FULL BREAST PUMP FOR ALL TO SEE).
I should have "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot!" tattooed on my forehead. Or get some more rest, or caffeine. Or start using my planner. Or commit to fewer things. I think the tattoo is the most likely of those scenarios to actually occur, honestly. Which is to say, it's not going to get better anytime soon.