No not a golfer, rather, one who puts things away. Usually that refers to putting things away in the correct place, and at my house everything has a place. A little home where it belongs. My keys for instance have a home. It is a black shelf with hooks below it that hangs on the wall between my kitchen and office. Usually I put them there. On occasion I leave them on the counter in my kitchen next to the garage door, or on the desk in my bedroom. I am a creature of habit and can't stand having things left out. So when I notice something, anything left out, I always put it away. Usually in the right spot. Sometimes if I am really busy or a bit distracted like I was this last Friday, I will put things away in a spot that isn't exactly where it goes but with similar kinds of things and out of eyesight so that order is restored as far as the eye can see.
I've been on a bit of an emotional roller coaster this last week. On the up side of things I was able to ski a few times this week and spent time with friends that I just love. I've laughed so hard I was crying, rode my bike on a beautiful counrty road, bought fresh strawberries, went to blook club where more than half of our friends actually read the book, ordered myself some jewlrey, went a little blonder at the salon, signed up for the St George Marathon Lottery, and wielded a chainsaw. These are things that make me very happy almost giddy.
On the flip side of things, I've been exhausted and in bed before 11 three times this week. Not because I am turning over a new leaf but because I couldn't possibly function anymore. I have spent hours on the phone and at various Dr. appointments with little Brynne. Several of them for drawing blood. I've spent hours researching on the internet diagnosis possibilities for her and wishing I had paid better attention in science classes. Grateful that so many of our friends have a medical background and are patient enough to discuss it all with me. She is fine, but definitely has some severe health issues that we will be dealing with and likely trying to figure out for a very long time. We have no answers just more tests, that seem not to draw us closer to any answers. But as I struggle with my tiny girl to hold her still so that they can take more blood from her arms I am resolved to stick it out until I get the answers. I need them.
Add to this the fact that Drew has lost his backpack, and therefore his homework that he brings home as loose pages daily. Wes had band performances on two different days this week that have required dropping him off at school at 7 am and clothes washed and ironed for the occasion. For a child that does mornings way worse than I do, this has been pure torture for both of us. Brynne who used to go in patiently and calmly to have her blood drawn is now refusing to even attend ANY Dr. appointment. She may be tiny but she is my daughter. She has sass and spunk. A blessing and a curse. My cleaning lady has disappeared, called in sick two weeks ago, and hasn't come back. My husband's lovely secretary got her dates mixed up and sent him to work in Sacramento for two days instead of one. I have felt emotionally spent. Being so tired and my heart so taxed, I haven't been functioning with my full brain capacity. (That's my disclaimer.)
Friday morning after dropping the kids off at school I cleaned up the house, did a few loads of laundry, indulged myself in a little selfish fun on the computer and got Brynne bathed and dressed for preschool. My thoughts were all over the place. Finally around noon when I went to go to my moms house I realized my keys were missing. I searched for and hour and a half, and eventually gave up and went to my moms. We drove her car to watch Garrett's last volleyball game and then she dropped me off at home again to search another hour for my keys. By the time I went to bed at 1 am Friday night I had removed the contents from every garbage can in my house into a new bag so that I could be certain I had not thrown my keys away. I have gone through every drawer of clothing in my house and scoured through each desk and all the shelves. I had even stripped the beds of their sheets and remade them.
My keys are still missing, but I am a putter. They are here somewhere, in a place that my distracted mind cannot seem to recall. In my daze of thoughts I put my keys away, out of sight, to restore order, and it has resulted in absolute chaos!
For another fun example of my "putting" see this post!