Mom, you forgot the cheese on my sandwich!

Mom, why didn’t you pack my water bottle?

Mom, I needed that permission slip today and you didn’t send it.

Mom, you promised you’d do laundry today so my shorts would be clean.

I’m not perfect. I’m not organized. In all honesty, I’m barely staying afloat. I forget cheese, and I forget to send snacks. Things like water bottles and buying birthday gifts for that party on Saturday (that we just got the invite to on Thursday) often slip under my radar. Permission slips get lost in the sea of papers that come home from school every Friday. Laundry? I’ll get around to it when all the uniforms are dirty.

For a bit, the guilt gets to you. Your heart sinks a bit when the kiddos remind you of something you have forgotten. You kick yourself every time you get that email from a teacher asking if you signed that math test or if you saw that permission slip. Your blood boils a bit when you are making that late night run to the grocery store because you missed that you have snack duty the next day.

You tell yourself that one of these days you will get your stuff together. You buy calendars and you make message boards. You download the right apps for your smart phone. This is the week you say I won’t forget anymore. 

But you do.

You still forget.

You forget to use the message boards. You forget you even have the apps. You find yourself still forgetting the little things.

The little things that seem huge in the moment, but once you move on you realize that those small moments aren’t the things that really matter. You start to think about all the things that you don’t forget. Things like:

Birthdays and concerts.

Ball games and spelling bees.

Those three really long nights in the hospital with a cranky baby.

Who likes green beans and who prefers corn.

When each baby took their first steps and uttered their first words.

Broken legs and the number of stitches on their chins.

The look of excitement in their eyes as they experienced their first fireworks display.

The pride they took in acing that big test.

The overwhelming joy you felt when you watched them earn that first purple ribbon at the county fair.

The tears you cried as you listened to them sing at their first school program because you realized that the time is passing way too fast.

All the hugs and kisses and the millionth time you heard “I love you, Mom”.

The snuggles when they are sick and the times they streaked naked across the yard.

So while I forget the little things from time to time, I know that at least I am remembering what is really important. 

And I wouldn’t trade those moments for a slice of sandwich cheese.

To read more of Tara's essays on Mamalode click here.