On Mother's Day

I've lately been preoccupied with this gnawing thought that anything and everything has been distracting me from my real and full purpose in this stage of life, which is, of course, to raise my children. And not just "raise" them to be taller, mind you (especially since that is a gargantuan challenge in this family), but "raise them" to be independent, responsible, intelligent, mindful, kind, considerate adults, and to teach them how they will get there and how they will navigate that world once they do. Every minute of every day is filled with distractions for me. I've tried blaming it on certain aspects of my personality or inborn traits I've inherited, everything from telling myself I have a creative mind to ADHD. But the truth is that I have an adversary who would love to see me fail, and for me the most powerful weapon to be used against me right now is distraction. Now, I love distractions. I love having so many plates in the air in all different colors and designs that every single thing I can fix my mind on is fascinating and interesting. I love doing as many things at once as humanly possible (or sometimes, not even). I love trying new things and eating new things and meeting new people and going new places - even better if I'm doing all of those simultaneously. The collision of constant distractions is, for me, the spice of life. My task is to reign it all in. Otherwise, as I've painfully learned too many times, it can so quickly all come crashing down. It turns out the human brain cannot effectively perform multiple tasks simultaneously. It also turns out that dropping the ball even once often creates a domino effect that brings everything else down on top of you. And on top of all that, another side effect of my flighty mind and hummingbird personality is severe forgetfulness. If I do not catalog my memories and experiences, they'll all just float away on the next breeze like every other one of my thoughts and ideas.

So here I am, in an effort to (1) preserve experiences and memories and thoughts in case they might be remotely useful one day, and (2) teach my children. I take my job very seriously when it comes to putting myself out of a job, or in other words, teaching these children to be independent adults who are capable of doing the very same things I do now, and doing them better, I am sure. My hope is that a catalog of my own experiences, life lessons, and hare-brained ideas will be a great resource to them, even if my role is every bit as much to teach them what to do as it is what not to do. I want to take this greatest weakness of mine and turn it into a strength - namely, what I like to call "the art of distraction" - a summary of every little random thing I think or do or pursue or make up. Altogether they make up my life experiences and therefore life lessons and skill set, so if properly channeled these distractions will become a toolbox instead of an obstacle course. In literature, a carefully placed distraction is called a red herring, and the story of my life is made up of those... and the pickles they sometimes get me into. And so, The Pickled Red Herring is born.