Lists everywhere and other evidences of overactive personality disorder...

So, I'm back and attempting to get back into a semblance of a routine. I am floored by the sheer volume of work I have to do in the office, as well as things that need doing around the house.

In the grand tradition of me overdoing things, I have lists to deal with all of this. It comes from the Type A pesonality, I can't help it. I've always had a to-do list at work, this is a given. I have a long term list and a short term list. When they get minds of their own and get too messy, I make new ones. Pretty soon, I have lists coming out my ears. My lists have sublists and addenda. They too, have an air of rigidity to them. Sounds familiar, huh?

At any rate, over the weekend, I was catching up on housework and cleaning in preparation for a friend coming to stay with us for a few nights. I was starting to get overwhelmed trying to remember all of the projects that need doing there. Painting, pictures to hang, garden to weed. (I'm pretty sure rabbit breeding season is over, but you can never be too careful...)

So, I had a thought. I grabbed my cute new journal, the one I've barely written in. This is very typical of me. I get all excited and passionate about something, buy an adorable accessory to cultivate the habit, and then...it languishes. I was planning to jot down my daily Bible and Catechism readings and reflections in there. Well, sigh. I don't think I've had time to reflect on anything since...well, since Hank was born. Thus, I have one pathetic entry from 2 weeks ago, followed by plenty of intoxicating blank white paper. I actually set up a system that was too structured even for me. In my desperation this weekend, I had a radical idea. That is, radical for *me*. I started a home to-do list right in the journal. And...it worked!

Suddenly, I was soliciting my journal to write all kinds of things in there. Naturally, the list got added to. But then I grabbed it to jot some quick thoughts on my daily Living Faith readings. A few passages really struck me, and I took the time to transcribe them into the journal and then jot some very informal and scattered, but frankly, really important thoughts. Things regarding my need to keep patient with Henry's temper tantrums, presenting a positive faith example, and finding holiness in the simple things.

I'm very pleased. Writing has always been very evocative for me, and I've found myself remembering my entries and try to implement the ideas throughout the day. So far so good.

Speaking of being patient...The patience factor came into play yesterday, as I was running errands with my Henry button. Heart stoppingly adorable - that he is. Undeniably precious - that too. But I tell you, your children are people who:

(1) you love more than your own life, no two ways about it, yet
(2) have the ability to drive you crazy like nobody's business.

So, we're at the craft store. I needed to get a skein of white yarn to finish off the afghan I'm making for Hank. The afghan I started when I was pregnant with him and nesting. Yes, I'm a little behind on my crocheting progress. What can I say, things got busy. So, we head in and immediately some predictable things happen:

- Hank refuses to get in the cart and we engage in a power struggle with me coming out victorious.
- I'm drawn over to the seasonal decor items, and Hank grabs at things on the shelf and tries to break them as I browse.
- Hank repeatedly demands to see the Halloween decorations, squealing in delight at the creepy talking witch and Frankenstein. When we walk past them, triggering their sensor, he becomes terrified and cries, making people look at us. The instant we are a safe distance from the aforementioned evildoers, he asks "Mommy, can we go see them again?"
- High-pitched chatter intersperses every thought my mind even attempts to form.

Classic example - we finally make our way over to the yarn section. I'm scanning yarn, looking for Carron Simply Soft. Finally, I hit the mother load. I'm looking for white - you would think that would be easy, right? You would think. As I'm contemplating the difference between creamy white, soft white, plain white, and eggshell white, as well as sweating over dye lots, Hank is inquiring about the following:

"Mommy. What's that door? What's an 'emer-gen-cy'? What's gonna happen if I open it, Mommy? What? Why can't I open it? Can I touch it? Why can I can't? Are the fire men going to come? Mommy? MOMMY. If I touch it, are the fire men going to be mad? Are they going to tell me no? An alarm? Really? Is it loud? Mommy? MOMMY. Is the alarm loud, Mommy? It *is*? Does it go 'wooo wooo wooo'? It does? How about this - WOOO WOOOO WOOOO..."

As you can tell, I took 2 ibuprofen the instant we got home. I also had to add several more things to my to-do list that occurred to me on the drive home. The spawning of items on the to-do list, this is a disturbing trend that really needs to be addressed. How does this happen? Clearly, the to-do list needs more supervision...