I locked my keys in the car again. So my bunnies were late to school. Again. I’d like to say that this has happened once and will never happen again.

But I can’t.

And I can’t stand that. That’s not me! I’m the girl who never ONCE missed an assignment in her academic career. I’m the straight A student. I’m the always show up 10 minutes early to the appointment. I’m the girl with the gorgeous and meticulous handwriting. I’m the girl who kept a freakin’ planner since 2000. I’m the model employee, and when I sit down to do something I finish that sucker.

And then I had kids.

Now I’m the oops I locked the keys in the car again. Now I’m the running five (or fifteen) minutes late to everywhere. Now I’m the messes, piles of messes, and never ending to-dos all over the kitchen counter. Now I’m the unmade beds for days. Now I’m the geeze, I didn’t make it to the store so we will be having a creative dinner of macaroni and cheese plus pancakes. Because pancakes are a vegetable. My handwriting is illegible, which means I spend more time asking myself, “What does that say?!” when the to-do list gets a passing glance.

There is some tension, y’all. There is an inner ISTJ who is cringing in shame at whatever it is that I’ve become. I’m a sham. I’m a shadow of my former glory… Not really. I was often insufferable. But I feel, more often than I like to admit it, “That’s not me!” And sure, it is awesome to embrace the chaos of family life, but I don’t want to lock my keys in the car anymore. And I’m tired of everyone telling me that I’m going to get in big trouble if I am late again. You’d think that adults wouldn’t get into trouble for being late, but it is all, “We will have to cancel your appointment and charge you the late cancellation fee if this happens again.”

So today rather than shrugging off the locked car keys as my new MO, and consoling myself with Catherine Tate and David Tennant much adoing about nothing (which I did anyway, because it’s Cathy and Dave doing Shakespeare), I made some goals for myself. I think sharing them might be helpful. Accountability and all.

Amelia’s Fall Goals

(Fall being understood as of right now to Thanksgiving Day, but definitely not the Friday after Thanksgiving because that is Christmas territory and all bets are off for that bad boy… Christmas and I have a complicated relationship.)

  1. Cook Something New… And stop counting pancakes as a vegetable.
  2. Lose Weight… I mean epic amounts of it so that come Christmas time I can eat with abandon. See goal #1. for inspiration. Hint eat less pancakes.
  3. Reach 40K words on my WIP. And please think of a title. And maybe even make a mood board. Those are fun. And maybe even hit 50K, because I think I can.
  4. Write four new blog posts. And for the love, edit them carefully. Maybe do more research about what blogs for #AmQuerying writers are supposed to look like. I wonder if there is a mentor contest for blogs. Feedback is always a good thing. “Hi. My name is Amelia. In your experience would my website hurt or help my chances of finding representation? …Uh-hun. I see… No, I understand. I look like an amateur who doesn’t know what she’s doing. But it’s honest, yeah?
  5. Read two new books.
  6. Meet deadlines for the day job (which is code for not forgetting to clock in).
  7. Play a game once a day… Mr. Amelia’s grandpa loved pinochle. My grandpa loved cribbage. I need to learn how to play these games. Or at least try to hold my own on Rescue Bot Memory or My Little Pony Memory.
  8. Listen to MORE music. I do like silence. I like it a lot. But my family likes tunes, and it does feel more like a party with music on.
  9. Don’t leave a load of laundry in the washing machine overnight and then have to wash it again the next day because it got gross. Shudders. Cringes.
  10. Don’t lock my keys in the car again.

Right. There are my goals. Do you have Fall goals? Do you lock your keys in the car? Do you do stuff that your younger self would disown you for?


  • Ona October 18, 2017 Reply

    I hear you on the subject of motherhood derailing life and the person one once was.

    I exercised. I ate a mostly vegan diet. Now it’s pop tarts and cold pizza and (only when I’m acing life) salad from a bag.

    I wore beautiful clothes. I had time to get pedicures.

    Also, it now seems like every third day I have a cold (thank you, preschool).

    1. Survive.
    2. Don’t get fired.
    3. Keep the children alive.

    I can’t get any fancier than that right now without setting myself up for crushing disappointment.

    A lady in the grocery store told me it got easier when her girls were 6 and 4. So, three years, three months, and two weeks to go. Yay.

    • Amelia Hollingsworth October 18, 2017 Reply

      I crashed my bike today and I was so _mad_ at myself. I feel like such a screw up and even when I’m trying to do something like exercise, I find a way to fail spectacularly. I’m fine (apart from road rash, lots of impressive bruises, and a very sore left shoulder). I’ll need to buy a new helmet and take my bike into the shop before I ride again.

      My off reminded me of an impressive bicycle spill I had in my MG years–my inertia lesson. Maybe it’s not parenting… Maybe I was and always will be a rough draft.

      I’m not that much farther along on the parenting journey but I found lots of relief in the following milestones: words, weening, independent preschool attendance, and sleeping through the night. It got so much easier with each milestone achieved. And yes, we cherished the baby years, but we all celebrated and anticipated graduating from them.

  • […] Sure! In fact I think I may even have a post about it here. Oh, wow. It’s time to evaluate those goals […]

  • […] my aunt’s plus-one at a production of Richard III this week. OMG the banter! OMG the tension! OMG Shakespeare makes everything better! (That link is mostly to showcase my GIF game, which is incredibly strong thanks to Dave and […]

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