Let’s face it.  Kids are smart. And, the more time I spend with our three-year-old I realize how smart she is. Unfortunately it also makes me realize how smart I’m not (for the sake of not writing ‘dumb’).

I forget just about everything.  In fact, I had to read the paragraph above to remember what the heck this post was about.  And there, I read it again. 

I forget to put coffee grounds into the coffee pot.  I forget to take my bra off when showering (read blog dated 10/13/11). I have even forgotten where my cell phone was while talking on it… ‘mom, I’m going to have to call you back; I can’t find my phone anywhere!’  Self awareness can be depressing if you can’t laugh at yourself (or use it as blog material so others can laugh at you).

I blame my lack of self-awareness, and awareness of anything really, to the many daily tasks I complete – all at once - to run a business, raise two children, attempt to discipline the dog and keep the house clean and the family fed.  Our toddler doesn’t have all of that to do, so that’s why she remembers everything. And I mean everything.

‘Momma, did you remember my dance bag?’ NOPE!…as I do a u-turn in the bank to head back towards home.

‘Momma, is this an envelope you were supposed to give to the mailman?’ YES…as I put it in my purse and head towards the post office.

‘Momma, is this cheese supposed to be in the freezer?’  NO…as I realize instead of putting it in the fridge I put it in the freezer.  Yes, I did that.  I have also found many things in the cupboard that should have been put back in the freezer.

You get the point.

The other morning while getting breakfast around she said to me, ‘Momma, why are you walking around in circles?’  Good question little miss.  Why am I walking around in circles?  Is it just what mothers do?  Or, am I creating this daily to-do list all in my mind about things I think need to be done?  A better question is: What happened to the calmer version of me who took time and care in cleaning, laundry (OK, that’s a lie I never took extra care in doing laundry) and cooking?  Would that calmer version of me be able to get all these things done?

I don’t have an answer to these questions.  Maybe I’ll ask the kid.

Of course I mean Jack (or Jac because I’m a girl), but in light of the recent and completely random spelling of my name that was used in an email to me, I thought I’d use Jacque.

I just can’t leave this one alone so if you haven’t heard via Facebook or my random sharing at the local grocery store (I love you Leppink’s!), let me explain.  So my name, Jacqlyn, has a somewhat unusual spelling that prompts me to say this almost automatically whenever I am providing the spelling of my name: J-A-C-Q-L…that’s right, no U after the Q, Y-N. 

But onto Jacque. 

Being a Jacqlyn means there are a plethora of spellings including, Jaclyn, Jacqueline, Jacquelyn, Jacklyn, Jaklin and my most-least favorite abbreviation of all: Jackie!  Jackie is like a totally different name.  To me any way.  Jacqlyn…Jackie.  It’s nothing like Jacqlyn…Jaclyn.  Two totally different names versus two different spellings. 

So, I get the misspellings and I have accepted after 30+ years the common and often automatic use of Jackie (‘Hi, my name is Jacqlyn.”  “Hi Jackie.”  Really?).  But I sure had a doozy the other day when I received an email from a client who I have worked for since 2008.  The greeting was, ‘Hi Jacque,….’  To be honest I stared at the email for about 10 seconds, rereading Jacque and trying to understand how that would even be pronounced.  Let’s dig in for further investigation…

Jacque.  Could it be that my beloved client meant Jacques as in the French Jacques Cousteau?  I am so not French.  Or could it be that she recently caught a glimpse of my junk-in-the-trunk and circa’d back to 1995 and the 227 Jacke`e? (BTW I totally wiki’d that spelling; I would have spelt it Jack-Kaaaaay.)  

The truth is, I just don’t know.

I wish I could figure out a way to respectfully and lovingly (and without breaking down in childish laughter like a middle schooler) ask this person how they think that might be pronounced.  My family and close friends do call me Jack.  But, I would expect that spelling to be as such, or Jac because I am a girl or even Jacq, which is the spelling some of my friends do use because of the infamous Q without a U.

I have so not taken offense to this ‘name-calling,’ in fact it has been quite fun to add QUE to the end of my friends names and other random words.  But, if anyone reading this has some thoughtful insight into the mind of my client, please-please do share.  If you don’t, I’ll just continuque to wondque what the hecque she was thinque.

My new recipe to make hard boiled eggs…

Ram some eggs into a pot and set on the stove to boil while both kids are actually napping at the same time.

Leave the kitchen saying to yourself, ‘you won’t forget about these,’ even though you have the worst memory in the history of the world second only to your mother.

Dash into your office and frantically try and get work done since your nanny quit and husband is out of town for the week.

Sit in your office and say to yourself, ‘what is that sound?’

Yell at the dog (who has snuck on your bed) for making a strange noise, but never let it occur to you that it might be something boiling on the stove.

Continue to say (at least five times), ‘what the heck is that noise?’

Look out your office window.

Go stare at the dog.

Check and see if someone turned the heat on.

Continue to wonder.

When your baby wakes up, walk out of your office down the hall and add to the list of questions, ‘what is that smell?’

Go into the kitchen to plug the monitor back in and FINALLY realize it is the eggs you put into the pot 50 minutes earlier.

Make sure all the water has completely boiled away and the eggs are literally frying in their own shells.

Call yourself an idiot.

Put them in cold water in the fridge and hope for the best.

Remarkably…perhaps miraculously, these will be the best hard boiled eggs you’ve ever made; so perfect your egg-crackin’ toddler peels them all herself.

Watch for these recipes and others in my new cookbook, ‘Multitask Cooking – How to Somehow Scrape a Meal Together While Doing at Least 10 Other Things.’

tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

Sneaking into my dad’s home office with my brother while he worked. I was probably about three or four. He pretended he didn’t know we were sneaking in, but he totally did. I can see my kids doing that to me someday soon.