Control...or is it routine...

One word can mean so much. It can reassure you when all else is wacky, or it might just mean you're wacky. (this is prompted by Sue's blog, cuz sometimes I think we might be twins, separated at birth...nevermind that birth has a 5yr difference.

I have my routine. For nearly everything. Some mornings when I'm doing "the usual" I think that I might stab hot pokers in my eyes if I have to feed the dog, put fresh water in her bowl, put the food scoop back in the dog food, take out the pancake batter, turn on the electric skillet, pour an apple juice and put it on the table, take out the butter, a knife a fork and a tablespoon, a plate, and the maple syrup. Then the dog needs to go out. I take out a tupperware container, slice banana and strawberries, put it in the lunch bag with a frozen thingie to keep everything cold until snack time, pour the batter in the hot skillet, let the dog in, put the snack in the backpack, flip the cakes, butter/syrup them, and (this is really sad, but it too is habit...I even do it for adults) cut the pancakes before serving.

My bathing routine has a pattern too. When I come home, my purse goes in the same place on the counter. The mail goes in another. Bowls, glasses, tupperware, pots and pans are taken from the dishwasher (or from their drying spot on the counter) are put back in the cabinet just so.

I rarely don't know where my stuff is. I can often tell you exactly where something is in the fridge, although that has become more difficult with two guys in the house that are doing good just to put it away.

I need my routine's, and I need some sort of order (although it may not seem like "order" to someone else). I need my lists and, more importantly, I need to be able to cross things off of the list.

The best part is that I can be in control of my routine.