I’m about to show y’all something I probably shouldn’t. Exhibit A: Community Desk Or what used to be a community desk before it became an archaeological excavation site. There’s a hairbrush, shipping supplies, paperwork, a set of tools, a jewelry display, and a decorative sign that says THANKFUL and I’m pretty certain I see a piece of leftover wrapping paper. Which is particularly hilarious because I’m currently thankful the damn thing hasn’t collapsed. But here’s the deal. I’ve been on strike. [remember my recent ghosting?] Not officially. Nobody received notice. There were no picket signs. 😂 I’ve just spent the last couple of weeks giving myself permission to do a whole lot of nothing around the house. And you know what? I needed it. I’ve been in full-time caregiver mode, taking care of people, checking on people, worrying about people, and doing all the little things that nobody necessarily sees. Nicky was home for 2 WHOLE weeks. So I stopped doing some of the little things [Poor St. Nicky]. And wouldn’t you know it? When Mom stops, certain things stop. Same goes for Dad. Now, before anybody starts blaming the kids, let me be clear. That desk has been a disaster for a LONG time. I contributed plenty to that archaeological site myself. And today I cleaned the entire kitchen. It looks BAD A**. So clearly, I can tackle this mess when I decide to. But here’s what I’m realizing. Sometimes the mess isn’t just about the mess. Sometimes it’s a reminder of how much we’re managing, how much we’ve put off, and how quickly things accumulate when we finally give ourselves permission to rest. And sometimes we need to take responsibility for the clutter we’ve created without feeling guilty for the rest we needed. Two things can be true. I needed that break. And I need to get our damn desk back. 😂 🚨 And while we’re discussing this archaeological disaster… Terri, Renee, Jenni and Traci — consider this your official BAT SIGNAL. 🦇 🤣 🏳️ I’m waving the white flag, ladies. It’s time to come work your magic.

Apparently there are people who wake up in the morning, look at their calendar…and then just do what they planned to do. That is fascinating to me. 😂 My days seem to operate more like: Wake up. Have a plan. Immediately abandon plan. This morning, a neighbor called and said, “Catina…” Something about the way they said my name immediately made my brain go: OH NO. WHAT HAPPENED? They needed Advil. Okay. Fine. I can handle Advil. 😂 So I run some down, realize they really just need to take care of themselves and rest for a while, and suddenly my quick little Advil delivery has become something entirely different than what I had planned. Meanwhile, Duke is with me because this was supposed to take approximately two minutes. And this is when my brain does the thing it apparently knows how to do without consulting me first. Crisis Manager / Mom / Air Traffic Control mode: ACTIVATED. I swear I could almost hear the machinery starting up. Who is nearby? Who isn’t working? Who can drive? Who knows Duke? Who could get him to daycare? Who can I call without giving them a 20-minute explanation first? My brain is literally flipping through its internal Rolodex because nearly all of my friends work, we don’t have family nearby, and I need to relocate one small human. And then it lands on: RENEE. Yes. “Book-throwing-away Renee.” For those keeping score, she has been working her way back into my good graces. 😂 I text her: “Are you busy?” “Not at the moment.” Excellent. Congratulations. You have a toddler now. She agrees to come get Duke and take him to daycare for me. What I did NOT know was that Renee had gotten a brand-new car YESTERDAY. Beautiful. Immaculate. White leather seats. Still has the new-car smell. And here I come carrying a toddler and a car seat that probably smells faintly of milk spilled from a sippy cup and contains approximately 15 pounds of Goldfish crumbs. I’m also pretty sure she found two sucker sticks in there. Or maybe Duke left them behind as a housewarming gift. 😂