Another example of how we are all our mothers' daughters

I love lists.

I love how organized I feel after writing a list. I love how I can compartmentalize any task into a series of lists and make any undertaking manageable. I love a clean sheet of paper on my pad of list paper or a crisp, clean page in a notebook. One of my definitions of bliss is to sit down with a hot cup of tea, a pad of paper and a good flowing pen. My current favourite pen, designated as my "list pen", is not very pretty to look at, it's a freebie from the Medicine Hat License Centre, but the ink flows out of it smooth as silk so I am able to forgive it's ugliness.

I grew up watching my mom write lists. She wrote grocery lists and "To Do" lists and a list titled "The List You Love To Hate" which could have also been called, "While I'm At Work And You Are On Summer Holidays Please Get Done The Following Chores". Oh how we hated that list. Every day of summer holidays, after finally dragging our teenage selves out of bed, we would walk anxiously to the kitchen table fervently hoping not to see that dreaded sheet of lined paper. However, to offset the dreaded list my mom also writes a highly anticipated list, the "Christmas Celebration" list, which she tapes to the bathroom mirror on Christmas Eve, and is an agenda of our evening; 4:00pm - light the candles, 5:00 - appies, 6:30 - dinner, 8:30pm - special presentation, 9:30 - open presents etc. Growing up with all these list surrounding me how could I not be a list-maker?

I write a lot of different lists. I write daily "To Do" lists of things I want to accomplish the next day; wash the sheets, check the mail, call Heidi and book a playdate; and I write a yearly "Things I Want To Accomplish" list. I write lists of books I want to read, movies I want to see and things I want to look for on Ebay. When events like a birthday party come up I write multiple lists; "To Do", "Who to Invite", "Goody Bag items to Purchase", "Things I Need to Buy". Then I break down my "To Do" list into the days, (or weeks, depending on the event), leading up to the party; on Wednesday I will buy the goody bags, on Thursday I will buy the food items, on Friday I will clean the house and bake the cake...and so on and so forth. Like my mom, I also write a grocery list. But unlike my mom it is not a random list written on the first piece of paper close at hand. I sit down with my list-making notebook, (yes I have an actual notebook dedicated for the sole purpose of making lists), and start by writing a list of the meals I'm going to make in the upcoming week, flipping back and forth between my recipes and a second list of the ingredients I will need. I then take the rough ingredients list and write a good copy, putting all the items in the order that I will hit the aisles in the grocery store. Writing this down I am realizing how nuts this sounds. I am actually so neurotic about lists that in addition to my list notebook, I keep a pad of paper and pen beside my bed so I can write lists in the middle of the night. Nothing helps me sleep better than a well thought out list. I have even been known to write lists of the lists I need to make. And I have to title all my lists even if the title is just "List". Hugh calls all this list-making borderline obsessive-compulsive but I say it's just good plain organization.

Sometimes when I'm writing my lists the kids will come over with a pencil and ask if they can colour with me. It's all I can do not to cry out in horror and leap out of my seat clutching my notebook to my chest. Instead, after a few deep breaths, I say gently, "No sweethearts, Mommy's not colouring. Mommy's writing a list."

On the last day of preschool before the Christmas break Tristan and Ava brought home some drawings of Christmas trees they had coloured. I had hung the tree pictures on the fridge when Ava walked over carrying a piece of paper that was covered in broad yellow sweeps of crayon. When she saw her tree picture on the fridge she got all anxious and cried out, "No Mommy! Not that one!" Holding out the sheet of yellow scribbles she said, "My list Mommy. I want you to hang my list."