Mental Peanut Butter

Today was one of those mornings where I was operating in hyper drive. I credit several things for my stage-five sense of urgency: 1) We spent the weekend up at the family lake house having a fantastic few days of skiing, snowshoeing, ice skating, and playing games so of course, when we got home last night we dumped all our gear, bags and snow stuff in a mammoth pile in our front hall, 2) I slept in a little later than usual as did my kiddos, 3) the cleaning lady was coming so I was trying to clean the house so she could actually CLEAN the house, and 4) I may have had too many nespresso shots (oooooh I love my new coffee machine) this morning.

You've got to love the day after a long weekend. You're mentally and physically wishing for one more day off and you've got that "oh crap - we have to fit five days into four" realization. So like I said, I was in turbo.  Making lunches, doing hair, pulling school stuff together, talking with the girls about our schedule for the week, making my checklist for the day, feeding Matthew, trying to clear the mammoth gear pile into appropriate bedrooms and tie my own shoes to make it to school and Boot Camp (for me) in time.

The littles (my kids) were being troopers. A combo of them being used to seeing mom in this morning frenzy and stepping up and actually pulling themselves together for school without serious nagging (Matt gets credit for not screaming his head off when I put him in his carrier). I was feeling pretty good about my day in the way that a morning with everything clicking into place makes me feel. I was doing a few last minute put-aways as we were about to head out the door, and opened our closet to throw in some errant art supplies that had been on the kitchen table. And there it was...the peanut butter.

This damn, super-size jar of extra-crunchy Jif happily staring at me on the shelf next to my fondue and crock pot (I should point out that this is the most random closet in our house as it stores all our kitchen appliances, tablecloths, and as aforementioned, the art supplies, but it does not house any actual food items).  This particular jar had been causing me grief for the past five days because I could not find it. I bought it last week at the store and KNEW that it was somewhere in my house (at one point its absence inspired a serious search through all my kitchen and laundry room cabinets, trash, recycling and more). The missing PB was driving me crazy.

I should explain that peanut butter in our house is like gold. For Jenna and Tim, it is a food group all its own and is consumed at pretty much every meal and snack. Bread, apples, pretzels, spoons, fingers are all conduits for consumption of this sticky protein. To go ONE day without, and our house becomes like the hunger games - arrows start flying (thanks to Jenna's Brave bow-and-arrow set from Christmas), there's one-on-one combat, and everyone is that nasty irritable starvation creates. And here I am stubborn enough to not go to the store for almost a whole week and get more because I just spent $12 on this huge jar that had to be somewhere. And here it was. Sitting in one of the most illogical spots possible.

Crazy runs in my family. A dangerous genetic mix of multi-tasking perfectionism and awful short-term memory that has been passed down from generation to generation. My grandmother's searches for her car keys are legendary. I used to tease my mom when I would find things in a random places - the remote control in the refrigerator, the laundry spray starch in the bathroom cabinet and so on. And now I officially and humbly join the ranks. All the littles started laughing (even Matt) as I shouted that I finally found the PB and they saw its elusive hiding spot. And I had to join in, partly because I'm so relieved to not have to buy a new jar, but also secretly because I know that in 25 years they'll be afflicted with the same issue.

Happy Tuesday everyone. May your peanut butter be on the shelf it's supposed to be. :)