Mommy to the rescue

I often wish that I had more of my mom's personality in me. She is the kind of person who, once she starts a task, couldn't dream of not finishing it and if the devil himself came up and tried to stop her, she would just keep going like she didn't even notice.  In high school, when we went on long walks together, she used to have to touch the light post in front of our house every time we got back so that the distance would be exact and her walk would be complete. One time my sister and I blocked the post so that she couldn't touch it and it bugged her so much that she stood there fighting us for 5 minutes so that she could touch it.  When she broke her elbow, instead of taking a day off to let it heal, she had me ride in the car with her and change the gears for her because she couldn't bend her left arm.

But no, I didn't get any of that resolve.  I have an okay time starting creative projects like paintings and sewing projects, but not much luck finishing them.  And when it comes to big things like cleaning and organizing, I just get really overwhelmed and take a break and start eating ice cream and cry.  I can accomplish some things, but I'm easily distracted and pregnant and tired and have two kids in my face all the time who make it really hard to do anything.

Luckily I have the next best thing to my mom's personality-- my mom, in the flesh, only 45 minutes away.  She has been checking on me every Saturday because Saturdays are my least favorite day lately-- they're the day when Brandon is still working on his paper and only leaves the bedroom to eat and I'm stuck in the apartment with nothing to do, because all of my friends are spending time with their own families.  And yesterday was especially bad because all of the junk and clutter were beginning to really irritate me but I had no idea where to start.

So my mom arrives, unasked, and gets started helping me clean.  She starts putting together boxes before I have even said hello, my dad takes the kids on a bike ride, and she goes through and starts ruthlessly throwing things away.  In the couple of hours she was here, we managed to pack 3 boxes, throw away 2 ugly bookshelves that were taking up space, deep clean my kitchen, put away everything else in the living room, and come up with a plan for me to pack the rest of my house.  Brandon was even fascinated enough that he ventured out of the room once or twice, if only to make sure we weren't mistreating any of his precious rock collection.  My dad came back with 2 days worth of dinners for us so that I don't have to cook and mess up the kitchen again.  In fact, I was so energized and motivated by the time she left that I managed to get the kids to sleep by 8:30, finish baby's dress, fold the 3 weeks of laundry piled up, wash our sheets, and proof read Brandon's 28-page paper.  And I actually think I can finish the rest of my apartment this week.

My mom is super mom.