How I [Don't] Do it

Since having a big family, the thing I most often hear is, "I don't know how you do it." I usually just smile and nod, but I have begun to say, "I don't do it. There is plenty that doesn't get done."

I'm not really sure what people mean by this question. I know they are just being nice and letting me know I'm doing a good job. I think. Or maybe they mean "If I were you I'd be mental by now." I guess it's probably a little of both.

But this is not the point. I just wanted to share an example of how I do it. Or don't do it. How I don't get it done.

Last night I turned out the light and as I tried to fall asleep began running the next day's agenda through my head. I had to take Penelope to the eye doctor.

[When she was at her well check she tested just into the red flag area on the eye chart. I had already prepped her for what would happen when I tucked her in.]

As I am trying to fall asleep I realize that even though I had carried the name of the doctor in my pocket as I left the pediatrician...had talked to the office to schedule my appointment...had received a reminder in the mail from the office about the appointment...had written it in the calendar (the time only)...had called again to confirm (as instructed on the post card)...had talked to a friend whose child went to the same doctor...I had NO IDEA where to go the next day. I had even asked where they were located during the initial phone call.

I laid there, wracking my brain, trying to remember anything. The doctor's name. Nothing. Location. Nothing. Is he an optometrist? Opthamologist? Nothing. Wake up, Penelope! Time to go...somewhere! Before I fell asleep I managed to think maybe I knew where the office was. I am a person of faith so I trusted everything would work out and went to sleep.

[How I do it completely hinges on the free gift of God's grace. All the time, every time. Plus, this is how things are all the time so the crazy last minute stuff is normal for me.]

I woke up today and began to google "pediatric op..." and then waited to see what the computer finished my "op" word with. I went with that. I found someone. His name sounded sort of familiar, but not really. Then I remembered that they had called me, over a month ago, to set up my appointment. Would it still be on the Caller ID? It had been a long time.

I get the phone. I begin my search from the oldest numbers. Six numbers in, there it is. The same doctor's name I found on the internet.

You won't hear me say it often. But here it is. Technology saved me. The internet, the word finishing thing, the caller ID, and I was only five minutes late. It was a "how I do it" miracle. And I am technologically resistant most of the time. I don't have the time to go into how much I hated Caller ID when it first came on the scene.

Anyway, this is how I do it. Last minute, fly by the seat of my pants, "Just look for some clean underwear in the white basket at the foot of my bed under the pile of blankets" type stuff. It's not always organized, it's not always a balanced meal, it's not a magazine worthy bathroom (EVER!), but it's done. Somehow.

Did I mention God's grace?