If you give this mom an hour all to herself, she will be excited for the hour’s potential.
She will think about all she could accomplish during the hour, glancing around the house at the laundry to be done, the pans to be washed, the paperwork to sort, and the clean towels to put away.
She will decide that sorting the laundry is the logical first step. When she enters the bedroom and opens the laundry hamper, she will spy her water cup, sitting on the nightstand, nearly empty, and decide she hasn’t drunk enough water yet that day.
She will pick up the water cup and walk to the kitchen for some ice and water. When she opens the freezer, she will be low enough to notice how badly the floor needs to be swept under the cabinets, so she will fill her water cup, set it on the counter, and walk to the pantry to grab the broom and dust pan.
When she opens the pantry, she will see the stacks of canned tomatoes and be reminded that today is grocery day, so she should plan meals for the next week. She will close the pantry and head to the dining room to consult the recipe binder.
When she sits down on the living room couch with her recipe binder, she will realize she’s forgotten paper and a pen, so she will return to the kitchen to find them, see her full water cup and take a big swig, congratulating herself for her healthy ways.
Drinking the water will remind her of finding the cup in the bedroom, where she had been sorting the laundry, so she will make her way down the hallway toward the master bedroom to continue that task. As she’s sorting the laundry, she will realize that she has needed to pee for the past twenty minutes.
While she’s washing her hands, she will glance in the mirror and be reminded that no tweezers have been near her eyebrows for well over a week, so she will dig through her make-up bag for her tweezers and rectify the situation, thankful she remembered to do so before being carted off by animal control.
After she puts her tweezers away, she will try to remember what she had been doing. Oh, the meal planning! She will head back to the dining room and search high and low for the recipe binder, and become frustrated with herself, because it. was. just. there!
Sighing, she will return to the kitchen in search of the binder, and notice the pans needing to be washed. She will start to stack the pans in an orderly fashion, to prepare for washing, and begin thinking about the fact that she hasn’t checked her email for a while.
It will occur to her that she hasn’t yet sent that email to her son’s teacher, or that other one to the PTSA board member, or that one to her personal trainer, or the one to her friend who has asked for advice. She will feel the sudden urge to take care of these emails now, while she remembers, and scurry downstairs, grabbing her water cup on the way.
When she sits down at the computer, she will wait for it to boot up. Once it finally does, she will attempt to recall what it was she needed to accomplish. She will remember that she hasn’t blogged in nearly a week, and that must be it. She will read the writing prompts, write a blog post, and climb the stairs, realizing her hour is up, and it’s time to go get the kids.
Before she leaves the house, she will glance around, noting the laundry needing to be done (now strewn across the bedroom), the pans needing to be washed (now strewn across the kitchen), the paperwork to be sorted, the folded towels to put away, the recipe binder on the living room couch (a-ha!), and her empty water cup, which she will hurriedly fill before running out the door.