it's all up here...

All day I do it. I cannot help it. I have to do it or I will forget. I have to write myself little notes of things I know I need to think about or say outloud to Lucio, but if I don't remind myself with a note then and there, I will forget later. Occasionally I have too many things in the note and I fear I will forget the priority order. At that time, I call Lucio and do a data dump. I ramble on for a few minutes and he tells me quickly and assuredly that he is both listening and retaining.
Three days later I will get a call about the missed haircut for Jack or the field trip money that was due this morning. Always one thing forgotten.

Tonight I came home with a sizable list of things I need to do - Jack's thank you notes for his birthday party (a terrible exercise but every other party we've been invited to did them. Technically, they did it when delivery meant dropping a note in a cubby at daycare and I need to mail to home, but whatever, I'm a team player.) A few sewing projects and some ironing. And I need to remember to see if I can find two more panels like the silk ones I used to have in the old bedroom and now want to hang in the dining room. And I want to play tennis before it's too dark.

There are some things that have occurred to me over the course of the day that I would like Lucio to do. Schedule appointments with certain people - his advisors at school, both financial aid and academic, the chick at his former office that can roll over his 401K, John to see if he can help install the new mirror, the carpenter guy who is supposed to do something in the attic so the exhaust fan works in the 2nd bathroom. No one could remember all this for someone else and remember all the things they themselves have to do. No one.

After dinner, while changing into a tee shirt, I ask Lucio if he had a notebook somewhere where he writes down all the stuff I ask him about. Maybe next to where he keeps his schedule of what he wants to accomplish each day?

Without looking up from his reclined position on our bed and with his eyes closed (I really want to look for new bedding - something crisper and rich looking...add that to the list), Lucio simply taps his head. It's all up here.

Not 20 minutes later, the phone rings and it's Tina. She cuts Lucio's and Jack's hair. They were due 10 minutes ago.

Running out the door with Jack trailing behind trying to eat his chicken tenders and put on his crocks Lucio tells me I never reminded him of this. And he is sure he because he remembers everything I tell him.

Really? Really.

Walking back into our room, I stand staring at our bed thinking I know there was something I was thinking about...