What my neighbors know about me from their window observations

I live in a little town.

When I go to the "city" for a day of errands, I need to take a lot with me because we are going to be there all day. Being prepared is of the utmost importance.

I have neighbors across the street, and if they have opportunity to look out the window yesterday here's what they learned about me:

1. That woman is going places: At 9 am I loaded my kids into the car. Lovingly, strapped them into their car seats and made sure everyone had their necessary comforts (blankets,pet dinosaurs, water, etc.) I started the car.

2. That woman has a lot on her mind:At 9:02 am I shut off the vehicle and realized that I needed my keys to open the house because I forgot to bring the lunch I packed for us. I went inside, grabbed the goods and locked the door. Informing my crew that we were now ready, I started the van.

3. That woman is forgetful: At 9:06 am, I shut off the vehicle and realized that I needed my keys to open the house to get my garage keys. I race out to the garage and grab the stroller for my not-so-baby baby boy, load it in the van and start the vehicle.

4. That woman is harming the environment: At 9:10 am, I once again shut the vehicle off fully aware of the gas-wasting going on. I realized that I needed my keys to get back in the house so that I could make a long-distance phone call that needed to be made before I spent all day away from my home phone.

5. That woman is irresponsible: My children were strapped in their seats-- unattended-- while I made the phone call inside. Hanging up, I took 3 calming breaths as I realized I was going to be late to our first appointment.

6. That woman runs around like her hair is on fire: With flourish, I slam the front door and run down the steps. In a moment of self-doubt, I run back up and check to see if the door is locked. It is. I run back down the steps and quickly panic that I have left my keys in the house. A quick pat down of the pockets reveals that once again I have had a moment of self-doubt. The keys are in my right hand coat pocket. With flourish, I wrench open the van door and start it up.

7. That woman drives like a maniac: At 9:15 am I start my van and put pedal to the medal. I only take up most of the road as I speed ( read: safely maneuvered) around the sidewalk and parked vehicles of my neighbor.

8. That woman is not to be messed with...or perhaps she's on medication: I've got the "I'm on a mission" glare in my eyes. The tunes are cranked and I've already told the crew in the van there is no talking, asking questions, wondering, or mentioning anything about going to the bathroom until we are outside city limits.

This is what my neighbors know about me.

Or would know about me if they had had their curtains open. ;)