The Guilt Fairy

If I am not doing something with even the slightest bit of redeeming value, The Guilt Fairy pays a visit. Once when watching Gilmore Girls, the little fairy appeared on my shoulder and whispered "You could be doing something constructive right now. Are you aware of the exponential growth of laundry that's happening in the hamper as we speak??"

"I'm entitled to a little relaxation!" I say adamantly.

My husband says "Of course you are, Sweetie". Which naturally he would because he's unaware that a guilt fairy even exists. He doesn't show signs of ever having had a visit by The Guilt Fairy. Somehow men are exempt from The Guilt Fairy just as they are exempt from cramps, unforeseen mood swings, carpools, and cleaning the cat litter.

The Guilt Fairy's first visit came fast and hard. It was the first day I dropped my daughter off at daycare and he has never failed to drop in whenever I'm engaged in an activity in which my time could have been better spent or I make some grave error in judgement.

I am constantly looking for ways to outsmart the guilt fairy. One Friday, he got me for forgetting to pack the daily snack in my son's backpack. I realized it just as he waved good-bye to me from the school bus window (because he's only 5 and public displays of affection toward your mother are still accepted at that age).
All day at work I worried and fretted that my poor son would starve from lack of snack. The Guilt Fairy hounded me, distracting me during meetings and phone conferences.

But by 5pm, I had the solution! Pack 5 snacks in his backpack so he'd be set for the week. No worries!

Monday morning came and I proudly packed a glorious variety of granola bars and fruit snacks inside the pocket with the Batman logo stitched on it.
The week went by without a thought to snack time. On Friday night I opened his backpack only to find a note from his kindergarten teacher, "Max was without a snack Tuesday through Friday. Please remember to pack them next week".

"Max!" I called. "What happened to the snacks I packed for you?"
"I don't know", his stock answer to anything I ask.
"Did you eat them?"
"Yeah".
"When?"
"At snack time." Near as I can tell, he ate all 5 snacks on Monday.
"That's a lot of sugar in one day" whispers The Guilt Fairy.
"Don't even start with me" I say.
"I didn't say anything" says my puzzled son.
"I know. You can't hear him."
"Who?"
"Never mind"

The List Maker

How will I honor the war-dead this Memorial weekend, you ask? Catching up on laundry for one. I mean no disrespect, mind you but I face my own war as each week comes to a close and the hampers overflow. I am certain that laundry, when left untouched, multiplies. It also increases exponentially as new humans are added to the household.

But laundry is only one of my many entries on my "What to do this weekend" list. I am an expert list maker. It may well be my greatest talent. I see each weekend as an opportunity for a new to do list... a fresh start at organizing my life. My loftiest ambitions for Saturday and Sunday are layed out for all to see on the kitchen counter pad of paper.

Also making the list are:

Clean out my closet
Clean out the spare bedroom
Clean out the garage
Clean out the sewing room

Notice a pattern here? All areas overflowing as much as the hampers. However, we can't live without clean clothes but we can live without the "sand art" kit that's burried in the back of the spare bedroom just behind the collection of hardened playdough and to the left of my wedding dress from 2005. I have yet to figure out what to do with it but don't worry it's on my list.

So tell me what's on your "to-do" list that never seems to get finished.