I almost burned down the house

Well, maybe not quite. In my quest to be the perfect wife and the perfect mother, I try to be as efficient as possible in those brief intermittent moments that Isaac is not eating, being changed, needing to be calmed or I am not pumping.  As I laid in bed last night (trying to force sleep because it was my designated time to sleep and I must NOT waste the allotted time), I was calculating how often I actually am breast feeding or pumping. I figured that he eats at least 8 times a day and I have to pump at least 2 separate times. Each feeding/pumping session takes about 30 minutes, so I figured I spend about 5 hours a day with my breasts to the wind! 20 minutes is spent after each of the 8 feeding sessions burping and calming the little man. So, now we are adding another 2.5 hours. In total, that is about 7.5 hours of baby time each day. That is almost a full day's work schedule.  I hope to get about 6 hours of sleep per day. As you can see, there is not a lot of free time left in the day.  Yes, I actually spent my pillow time adding minutes. Shower? Make-Up? Clothes? What are those things? I digress... the word that comes to mind is multi-task. So, in one of my brief moments of "free time", I decided I was going to get a lot done. I put all the fallen pacifiers in a boiling pot of water. Check! I start the dishwasher. Check! I start cleaning the pump parts. Check! I go his room and grab his laundry. Check! Come back, check to see that he's breathing. Double Check! I make a pot of coffee and sit down to drink it. Triple Check!!! I open my computer, say hello to my blog. Hmm... what's that smell? Weird. It smells hot. Maybe it's the dishwasher. Yea, that must be it. That steam is just from the heat of the dishwasher. Check my email, check facebook. What the heck is that smell? I walk over to the kitchen. Oh holy *^%$! That is what the smell is!!!!!!! My pacies are burning! The pot of boiling water is no longer a pot of water, but a dried up black cauldron with browning pacifiers. The smell of chemical plastic has filled the air and I notice that the "steam" I had seen was actually smoke that permeated the house. Thank the lord the fire alarm didn't go off and wake my sleeping husband. I opened up the windows and praise the lord, that crispy pacies was the only victim of my absent-mindedness that morning.  Five pacifiers in the trash later, I learned my lesson. Do not try to be superwoman. You will never be able to do it all, and that's ok.