I do everything in two to three minute movements, so I rarely feel focused on one task. I'm often working to a symphony of, "Mommy, can I have a glass of water?" and the primitive grunts and leg tugging of my one year old.
So things don't always get done the way they should. The water bill gets missed in the stack of junk mail and I sheepishly discover it a few days later when I'm stacking the magazines I subscribe to but never get a chance to read. The laundry gets stacked but I don't notice the stack of folded socks until I sit on them. And if it doesn't make it on the calendar, it doesn't happen.
I like to blame it on constant distractions from my two little whirling dervishes. And I sometimes remember with great fondness the long stretches of quiet thinking time I used to enjoy at work when I shut my office door.
Still, I'd rather be getting some done with my two little distractions than checking off everything on my list while someone else gets cuddles from my babies.