I went out for a little Girls Night dinner last night with two awesome women I met at my very first job out of college. Which means we’ve been friends for (gulp) 17 years. So, now, these two ladies and I meet every three months or so at a fancy restaurant that none of us would likely go to on our own. One of us is a bit of a foodie — single, hip, with a job that has her traveling frequently and an address within the city limits. She’s still cool. Another of us lives very close to the city, works for a university and has a husband who’s involved in city politics. She has two kids the same ages as mine but the girl gets around (no, not like that). She just does stuff. She’s someone I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to just see on tv when I’m watching some local event. And then there’s me. Total suburbanite. I rarely leave the four square miles of my town and if I do it’s probably because there’s no gas station in town and I’m finally approaching empty.

Anyway. We arrive at last nights restaurant of choice. We realize we didn’t have each other’s cell numbers so we all (dorks) pull out our smart phones to exchange information. I notice something on each of their phones.

Unread email.

In one case, 17 unread emails.

I swear, she may as well have been from another planet.

I never have unread email. Really. Almost never.

I mean, maybe if I leave my phone in the car while I pick up the kids I might come back and it looks like this.

(I have a case of the shakes just seeing it like that.)

But it’s not like that for long.

Because I’m an iPhone addict.

If I hear that sucker chirp, I look. I am to that little red circle with a number in it what Pavlov’s dogs were to the smell of fresh meat.

Must. Read. Message. Now.

So, I was thinking that it’s a shame I don’t treat the rest of my life that way. That something that requires my attention at home doesn’t get nearly the high priority given to that stupid chirping iPhone and its little red circles.

I think it might work for me.

For example:

And, then I’d go to the dry cleaner stat.

_____

Ah, yes. Feed the dog. Done.

_____

Dishes clean and put away. Check.

_____

Little Brother’s laundry? Roger that.

_____

Weeds? I’m on it.

_____

Yup, I’d do that, too.

_____

Oh, yeah. Easter. Lots to do on that one. Big job.

But…

Must. Clear. Red. Numbers.

Ok. Done.

See?

It could totally work. With little red circles with numbers on all my daily “to do” items there is no doubt in my mind that in no time flat I would be the most accomplished stay-at-home Mom ever.

My laundry would be done, my garden weeded and my a** half its original size.

My dry cleaning would be picked up, my dishes put away and my boys’ bathroom would be…..

Nah.

Never mind.