I was bashing myself over screwing up Roo’s doctor’s appointments and, then, forgetting about Keaton’s soccer game tomorrow…

…when Brad looked at me from above a pile of test papers on the table and said, “Honey, there’s a lot going on. We’re gonna forget stuff. Even if it’s on the calendar. Keaton knew she had a game, she told us, and she’ll be there. You can’t get this upset about it.”

As much as I joke about being late and living in chaos, I actually run a pretty tight ship–from an organizational standpoint–around this house. But between a baby and a remodel and not feeling all that great for seven months, things have slipped (in my mind, at least), and I feel like we’re at somewhat of a turning point, where I can either say, “The hell with it,” or take back control.

Because, as a person who operates in extremes, I see those as my only options.

Luckily, I married a person who sees that everyone is alive and well and happy and shrugs and says, “Big deal, it’s all fine.”

And that’s why there’s two of us…

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