Stream of Conciousness, or Unfiltered Thoughts of a Harried Mom

The profound and the mundane swim around in my head, swirling together and creating an indiscernible collage.  Indecipherable from one another, important and trivial become one and the same.  The blackberry buzzes nonstop for twenty chaotic minutes, then it is silent for two hours.  Why does everyone call at the same time?  What should I prepare for dinner tonight?  Nobody wants to eat the same thing twice in a row.  Yet starving children in Africa (and elsewhere?) would be grateful to eat anything.  I'd be grateful for a piece of chocolate right now.  And coffee.  And I'm grateful for running sneakers that take me the distance, and can you even do distance on a treadmill?  I do.  Six miles, sometimes only two, I always find myself exactly where I started.  And then it's time to have lunch.  Salad for me, mac and cheese for the kids.  Is this mine or is it yours?  Is it time to flip the laundry already?  When did she grow so tall?  The passing of time is a stealthy adversary, acting when we are busy with other things and deceiving us when we look in the mirror and are greeted by someone much older than ourselves.  We are all at different stages in the time continuum, but not at any stage for long.   There are babies and old ladies, young children and midlife crises.  Is a sports car really that dangerous?  And shouldn't red light camera's be illegal?  There are too many rules.  And we're out of yogurt again.  Wow the kitchen stayed clean for a full hour.  Questions about pirates and ninjas, and are there any REAL princesses these days?  Almost time to put the kids to bed.