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Writer's pictureEsther Goetz

Oops...I Did it Again



Oops! I did it AGAIN after I promised myself I would not.


I made my kind-of-far-away daughter's birthday magical.


I stood in line to get the perfect meal and ordered gifts that were just the "right" ones, making sure they came on time (even though one got lost in transit and that was NOT okay).


I drove for 2 hours, got stuck in traffic, heated up dinner, took her to ice cream and then drove back 2 hours, getting home at an ungodly hour.


Then came my husband, headed away on a "retreat" by himself for a few days at our rental property that is unoccupied at the moment.


I went to the store, got all kinds of goodies for him, meals that he could just pop in the oven, and helped him pack it all so that he wasn't missing anything.


He also wanted to have a quick bite out before he left, so I hustled my way into the car, makeup on, uncomfy jeans and all.



I didn't forget my still-home son in the middle of dinner, ordering a pizza and grabbing it on the way home, after stopping to get the "kind" of apples he likes.


All of this tucked between my regular work schedule and within a span of two days.


So what did I do AGAIN that I promised I would not?


I opened the fridge this morning.


It's empty.


No meals that I can just heat up in the microwave or oven. No special treats.


Eggs. Cheese. Leftover taco meat. Cucumbers.

Oh, and some chicken breast.


I could kick myself, but I won't because that would be super unkind.


But I am a little bit POed.

Because I've worked really hard on making myself a priority the way I make everyone else one.


I've gotten counseling, read self-help books, prayed for guidance, and actually written words about this very thing. Cute memes and long blog posts.


But when rubber meets the road, some strange mom phenomenon that I just can't put my finger on, whisper-shouts and I quickly forget myself.


I forget that I matter too.

That I'm important too.

That I should treat myself the way I treat others (it's the reverse of the "golden rule" that all moms need to hear).


So, here I stare at an emptyish fridge and wonder what to do.


Perhaps I'll do just the next right thing.


And order dinner to be delivered.

For me, myself, and I.

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