Multitasking

 

It’s about 12 noon now.  It’s only a quarter of the day since I woke up and I am already exhausted.  I’m eating my lunch as I type so I am not wasting any time.  I am always in a hurry to finish my meals that I don’t get to enjoy most of them anymore, thinking Struan will be crying in no time for feeding, or changing, or for attention in general.  Speaking of him, he is crying now, for what I have yet to determine.  Pause.

 

I’m back.  Oops, he’s crying again.  Pause. 

 

I’m carrying him now as I type, while giddyapping my legs to make him stop crying, as I'm chewing that big spoonful of lamb and rice that I just shoved into my mouth, while the clothes are on the dryer and his bottles are being sterilized upstairs.  This is typical of my multi-tasking.

 

Everyday I go up and down the stairs – from top floor down to the den 35 steps to be exact, multiplied by the numerous trips I make going up and down each day, total of which I can only calculate with a pedometer.  Not to mention the weight involved, such as that laundry basket that I trudge with me, or those stout feeding bottles of Struan as much as my arms can embrace, or his rocker that I dangle up and down on my back, or Struan himself on one arm and something else on another.  I pass by each floor leaving no stones unturned on spaces I have to declutter, and articles I have to either bring up or down making sure there’s not an idle arm on one trip, that can save me for yet another.

 

Classical music is playing on all floors simultaneously all day because turning the players on and off would take seconds off my precious time.  The other day I have figured out how to manage Struan on one arm while typing with both hands, and just now the ability to take out clothes from the dryer with him on an arm, two more great discoveries added to an earlier one of being able to carry him and eat at the same also with both hands.  Such skills that I have to master to save even more time.  Time that I wish I can bank for myself for the end of the day.

 

But each day never seems to end and the chores seem never ending.  So I savour my every Kitkat break as much as I could, whether it’s an episode of Ellen or Oprah, Chuvaness or PEP, my blog or somebody else's, a fashion or home magz, an email to my family or IM with Sherwin, out shopping or online shopping, a scoop of Häagen Dazs or a piece of Swiss Delice (or a Kitkat, who knows).  Anything that will take me away from it all even just for a while, because longer than that is next to impossible. 

 

For the meantime, it's safe to say that mutitasking has become a talent.