Busy

Busy: A word that is entirely too common in our every day language.

My life can get very busy, just like everyone else's.  I have 3 kids, one of whom stays home with me for all but an hour and 15 minutes, 3 days a week.  I have a husband who is out of town.  I take care of baths, dinners, and making lunches for school.  I pay the bills and return the library books and make the dentist and doctor appointments.  I attend the kids' conferences, and take them to the birthday parties.  I make the curtains for the new house.  I clean (maybe a little obsessively).  I help with the homework and sign the tests.

'Busy' is a common occurrence.  But it seems as though the meaning of the word 'busy' has evolved.  Is that the case for everyone?  Or is it just me?  I found myself saying, "Oh, we've just been busy" to a neighbor of ours last week who mentioned she hadn't seen us around in awhile.  I certainly am busy, in the true sense of the word, but defining the 'busy-ness,' especially when someone mentions they haven't seen you in awhile can become tricky, especially if you're just using the word as an excuse.  When someone says, "Oh, I can't.  I'm busy," I don't truly think they can't.  I think they simply won't.  And unfortunately, that was the case when I responded to my neighbor.

The word 'busy' has become a general term to define everything we do in our lives as an excuse to not have to do other things that we may just not feel like doing.  And that is certainly okay.  I just wonder if it's starting to affect the way we communicate and interact with other adults, or even potential friends.

I want to use that word as seldom as possible.  Because if I start using that word as a way to describe how I'm living my life, my life is going to become a big jumble of events that I can't keep track of,  I have no recollection of, and I certainly am not enjoying.

Anyone too busy to stop by and chime in on this one?

Parent Fail of the Century

I don't know what made me think of this story, but I thought it'd be fun[ny] to share... no judging allowed.

Shortly after my youngest turned 1, the kids and I were getting ready to leave the house.  I'm a stay-at-home-mom, and hubs was at work.  We typically spent our mornings at the YMCA, where the kids played in Child Watch and I worked out.

The kids were dressed and ready, so I took my turn and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get dressed.  When I went to check on them, I discovered that my youngest had gotten into the empty baby food jars I had stored on our baker's rack in the kitchen.  To my dismay, I discovered that one of the glass jars had broken and landed right where she was sitting.  So, with my toothbrush in my mouth, I picked her up and brought her into the living room with her brother and sister.  I checked to make sure she hadn't gotten cut or hurt (she hadn't), and finished my morning routine in my bedroom (we lived in a 1-story home, so I was just a few feet from each room).

When I came back into the living to corral the stinkers into their shoes, my littlest stinker had something in her mouth.  And she was chewing voraciously.  Any guesses as to what it was?  Hmmm?

It was glass.  My one-year-old daughter was chewing on glass.  Yep.  You read it here, folks.  My daughter was chewing on glass while she was unattended by me.

She's three now, so I'm guessing any residual effects would have reared their ugly heads by now.

*PHEW*

No glass in there this time!