Let's face it, being a working mom means you have to stay super organized and do your best to multi-task every day. There's not a lot of wiggle room and the working parent schedule is not very forgiving from a time management standpoint. Like most working moms, I fall down on the job sometimes.

Sure my child goes to school with clean clothes, hair and teeth brushed (except for one day last week) and my husband and I make it to work on time just about every day. On the weekends, we always make time for a fun family activity and rarely miss a kid or family member's birthday party. So what am I blabbing about? The stuff (insert the word I really want to use here) that doesn't get done.

For us, it's almost always the same. Family bike ride? Check. Laundry. Nope. Spring cleaning and changing our clothes from winter to Spring? Finally took place last month just about the time the Summer Solstice made its grand appearance. You get the idea.

When I get the rare day off that's not earmarked for a sick child or travel day, it's a great opportunity to get to those pesky little projects that desperately need my attention. For me, today is that day and my self-proclaimed hoarder status is my project.

Keep. Toss. Donate.

We're paper pack-rats. My husband is the major mail opener and bill payer, I can't seem to throw away any of my child's artwork or family cards, and my kid colors and draws like it's his life's work (can a mom really argue with that?). Today, I'm happy to report that my recycle bin is full. In fact, I can't even close the top properly. It took FOREVER to look through every single piece of paper, but I'm feeling really good about the fact that my piles have either diminished or - in the rare case - disappeared all together.

I went through both mine and my son's closets and held nothing back in the toss and donate department. Thankfully, I have mom friends who have boys younger and smaller than mine and we have terrific places to donate and consign women's clothes in our town.

My mother gave me a beautiful photograph of my grandmother around Christmastime, so imagine my surprise (It was more like dismay, bordering on shame) when it appeared in yet another pile of "stuff". I'm definitely keeping it and may even achieve superwoman status and finally get it properly framed.

So three hours into project clean up, I'm taking a break and writing this blog. Next up? Lunch and an iced coffee. I've made some serious progress, but I'm still me after all.

We went to Walmart yesterday with one thing in mind: mom needed a floaty for the pool (preferably with a cup holder for my iced coffee). I've been wanting one since we opened our pool in early May, but just hadn't made it a priority until now.

As we made our way through the store and just before we reached the pool aisle, we happened upon the new bike section. You see, during the last couple of months, we've been trying to get our son excited about getting a new bike. His current bike is a bit "babyish" and that - combined with pushing the height limit - made him a great candidate for a new model. The problem was that each time we went to the store, he refused to sit on one. Or look at one, for that matter. He just wasn't into it. Until today.


He pointed to the bike of interest and asked me to get it down off the rack for him. Not only did he want to sit on it, he wanted to ride it. Fast. Up one aisle. Down another. My husband and I looked like lunatics trying to catch him. In fact, he almost mowed down my Media Mom counterpart, Betsy, and her husband who were also shopping there. Once they realized who he was, thankfully, they laughed out loud. And, since there's nothing my son likes more than an audience, he went right into performance mode. We smartly gave up trying to stop him and decided we'd just make good use of his excitement and follow him toward the checkout counter. "May I please buy this new bike?", he said proudly.

One of the many things I've learned as a mom is that just when you think you have your kid figured out (he doesn't want a new bike), he surprises you. And, makes you smile.


As you might have guessed, though, I'll need to make a return trip to the store this week. After all, mom's floaty awaits.