I'm losing my mind.
Tuesdays are storytime days at the library, and every week, I dutifully wake up my usually late-sleeping children and get them fed, dressed, brushed, and ready to go listen to Mrs. O tell her stories.
Today was no different--at first. I woke up the kids, fed them breakfast, dressed them, brushed their teeth, combed their hair, got them into their coats and shoes, took them to the car, and strapped them into their car seats. Then I got into the car, put the key in the ignition, and did what I always do: glance at the clock to see how late we were going to be this time.
The clock said 10 a.m.
We didn't need to leave for storytime until 11.
My first reaction was complete confusion and denial. The clock must be wrong, I thought, and checked my cell phone. Same time. Huh. I sat back in my seat and counted back the hours. Everything seemed right. Could both clocks be wrong?
Comprehension finally dawned when I recalled that Pinky Dinky Doo was on TV when I brought the kids downstairs. Now, I know Nick Jr.'s lineup by heart, and that program is always on at 8:30. Always. I was supposed to get my kids up at 9:30.
This may seem like a little thing, but it's just one more example of the many ways I feel like I'm losing my mind these days. It doesn't bother me so much that I got the kids up an hour early (even though I missed that extra hour of writing time), but the fact that it took me so long to figure out what was wrong makes me feel like I'm two crayons short of a box. Maybe it's Mommy Brain...
Anyway, because of this timing mistake, my whole day was thrown off. It just didn't feel right, and consequently, nothing was done when it was supposed to be done, and I'm sitting here at just after 11 p.m. writing a post I should have written hours ago.
I've learned my lesson. You can bet I'll be checking that clock tomorrow.