Numerology

Today, after calling up the stairs for the third (ok, fifth) time to the Older Girl to clean her room, I started thinking about how many times I say or do things before either a) the objective is accomplished or b) I throw in the towel and check People magazine on-line (it's a vice, I know, but I like to think that's it's slightly better than, say, heroin -- although maybe just as addictive). So in the interest of Full Disclosure, I went through a typical day from start to finish and ran the numbers. Here's the ugly truth:

Number of times I hear the Boy calling my name at 5:15 am: 4
Number of times I ignore the Boy: 4 ( it's 5:15 am people!!)
Number of times I look at the alarm clock and swear I'll be up in 5 minutes: 3
Number of times I roll over: 3
Number of times I leap out of bed cursing the alarm clock because now I'm late: 1 (usually)
Number of times I tell Older Girl to get dressed: at least 5
Number of times I walk in the bathroom and step in pee: at least twice a day
Number of times I marvel at the hardiness of Finbar, our fish, given the fact that very little care is taken to change his water regularly: 3
Number of times I think about putting the clothes from the washer into the dryer: 3
Number of times I have to rewash the load because I forgot to put it in the dryer: ideally, only once (yes, I said, ideally . . . infer what you will . . .)
Number of times I think about going back to bed: 4 (and that's all before 9 am!)
Number of times I tell the Boy to leave his penis alone: 10
Number of times I sit down to blog, but get caught up reading other blogs or websites: 4 or 5
Number of times I start a grocery list: 3
Number of complete grocery lists that accompany me to the store: 0 (but I can piece together the ones I have and do a decent job)
Number of times I go into the bathroom followed by one of my children: every single time
Number of home improvement projects I have running at the same time: at least 2
Number of half empty juice boxes in the fridge: 4 (do they multiply overnight?)
Number of times we listen to "Oh, Susanna" as Older Girl practices her piano: approximately 4 times all the way through, but that's not counting the mind numbing stops and starts along the way
Number of times I tell the Boy to stop running the "victory lap" (the circuit from the hall through the kitchen and living room): 3
Number of times the Boy slips on the rug during said victory lap and crashes into the baseboard: 1
Number of times I tell the Boy to push his cup back from the edge of the table: 5
Number of times I wipe up milk per dinner: 1 (if you're goofing around, it's one strike and you're out of milk at our table)
Number of people crying over aforementioned spilled milk: at least 2 (including me)
Number of times I have to tell the Boy to get back in bed before he falls asleep: 3
Number of times Rob asks me if I'm falling asleep while we're watching tv: 1
Number of times Rob is waking me up when the show is finished: 1
Number of times the Boy or Older Girl come into our room through the night: 3

And with that I begin another day . . .

But of course, there are some things I could do ad infinitum; like kissing Baby Girl's smooth, round cheeks, telling the kids how much I love them, laughing with Rob over something inane and yet completely hilarious. I find that I don't mind the repetition of my tasks if they are punctuated by all the little, good things that make me realize I am in the right place at the right time -- even if it's not fun or exciting. It's all of these things that make the rest of the load bearable.