Using your children as an alarm clock has limitations.

With two young boys in the house, there's little danger that Jon or I will sleep beyond 6:30 a.m.  In fact, our typical wake-up call is even earlier, sometimes around 5. So what's the point of setting an alarm? Today, I learned--admitted, really--that there are several benefits of beating your kids awake. (And by that I mean waking before them, not slapping to rouse them from their slumber.) Here are my top three:

Time to shower. For people like me who mostly work from home, a shower, one might argue, is optional. Generally, I am not one of those people. Getting doused with water in the a.m. wakes me and makes me feel normal. But in getting the boys out the door, I often don't have time to shower, so I take the boys to daycare looking like, well, I just rolled out of bed. Because I did. When I come home, I don't shower then either. I convince myself that I have too much work and that I'll shower after I run. But then... I convince myself that I have too much work to run. Or shower. Boys come home. I've not showered. This is not good for morale.

Time that could be used to, say, unload the dishwasher. Or something like that. No one who knows me well would EVER describe me as a neat. (But I AM organized). Still, a certain kind of chaos makes me crazy. I'm not sure where to look or what to do next. Here's a photo of a corner of my kitchen. It's just the tip of a very messy "iceberg."

Yes, that's a disposable camera with film.
What is it doing up there on the shelf? Good question.

Clean clothes. Actually. I have a lot of clean clothes right now. In baskets all over the house. Because I'm waiting to put them away. You see, we're leaving again this weekend and I'll put them away when I pack. Perfectly logical, no? Also, I need to switch out the boys' clothing: In Julian's drawers are size-2 cords. He wears size 3 and it's summer (read: we haven't worn corduroy since, oh, March), which means... WE'VE BEEN LIVING OUT OF BASKETS FOR MONTHS.

Writing this is actually making me feel like horribly unorganized, but I will say this: yesterday, after work/school, I played baseball with Jules and tried to teach him how to stand up from a somersault without using his hands. Kai and I sang songs and danced. After the boys were in bed, I had a glass of wine with two friends. I chatted with my dad on the phone. This morning, both boys were dressed in clean, matching clothes appropriate for the chilly weather when I dropped them at school--where I leisurely helped them settle in and put away their healthy, homemade lunches.

I hope that my boys will look back and say, "Yeah my mom worked a ton but she played with us all the time and took good care of us." Will I feel like I've failed if they add "And she was a total slob"? Maybe. But I think waking up 30 minutes before they do is going to solve all of my problems. (Half full perspective here... )

So. Anybody have a great rec for a super cool-looking alarm clock that will charge my iPhone?

I need a system to help me stop losing things.

My car keys had a starring role in my morning today.

It started with this observation: Black Escape behind silver Swagger Wagon. Must find Ford keys.


Search bag, search pockets of yesterday's jeans. Nope. Nope. Check key holder near telephone. Bingo. (Why would they be there?)

Why, hello, Car Keys. I've been looking all my life for you.

Keys in hand, Jules and I shuffle off to school, leaving Jon and Kai (who has a fever) at home.

7:50: We arrive. I remove keys from the ignition. I leave my bag in the car and, given that I have no pockets, carry my keys.
7:52: Stop by the baby room to say Kai won't be coming in. Keys in hand (I think).
7:54: Walk to "Caterpillar" room. Keys in hand (I think).
7:55-8:00: Restock diaper bin, chat with Julian's teacher. Kiss Jules goodbye.
8:00: Uh oh. Where are my keys?
8:01: Check his outside bin.
8:02: Check his lunch box (in the fridge)
8:03: Check the waistband of my skirt (who knows?)
8:04: Walk to baby room. Check Kai's bin. Check the floor.
8:05: Check the bag used to transport the diapers. No dice.
8:06 - 8:07: Pace between the two classrooms rechecking the bag.
8:08: Check the American Eagle mailer inside the diaper bag (um, why is it there?) containing the jeans I ordered majorly on sale that do not fit at all even though I currently have three pairs of AE jeans in this same size. Annoying. BINGO. (Why would they be there?)
8:09: Head out of the center.
8:10: Walk back into the center. Need to leave the bag so I can bring Julian's stuff home.

Sheesh! Yesterday, after getting my hair cut, I spent 6 minutes emptying my entire bag on the back bumper of my car--again, looking for my keys--while the guy parked next to me made fun (nicely). Once I found them, I realized that I'd forgotten my coffee cup on the front desk inside the salon.

WTF is going on? Well, there's a lot going on--work... travel... boys... one of them, sick... and according to this fascinating article that fellow science writer Gretchen Voss wrote originally for Women's Health magazine, stress messes with your memory.

Guess I need to chill out. And, in the meantime, figure out a system for keeping track of my keys.