A.D.D. my *ss

I can't believe I'm writing this again when "Yo Gabba Gabba" is on again. THIS is the post that should've been called "Write Again" dangit. I think there's something about the sound of the show & of course the zombie-like trance my daughter gets into while watching it that must inspire me to write.

"It's fun to make a snack. It's fun to make a snack. It's fun to make a snack!"

So, as moms, we become professional multi-taskers, jugglers - my husband thinks of it as A.D.D. I think nooOOOoooT! Dear Restless Hubby: "If I didn't do 20 things at the same time, you would be living in a disaster zone and Child Services would take our kids away because their appearance and behavior would resemble wild monkeys." Today I have: picked up all the rooms, made beds, vacuumed, made breakfasts, put away left-over (not-perishable of course) groceries, cleaned off tables and counters, changed diapers twice, nursed thrice, dressed one kid, put one to bed, 2 loads of laundry and who remembers what else in my way of spinning in circles. Now, I'm stalling getting ready to work on this business we're hoping to launch in the next month here. I will reveal all later. (Not because it's secret only because I'm too lazy to explain at this time).

I remember once talking to RH on the phone with one hand while brushing my teeth with the other and bouncing the baby in the bouncer with my foot. A.D.D.? Um, no. It's called survival.