bad mom: things i'm actually bad at

Before we begin in earnest, I must address the preposition upon which I ended this post title. I am typically a stickler for proper grammar - a Grammar Nazi if you will, though I would never murder people for misusing language; subject them to long, boring explanations, yes, but not murder. However, I also believe strongly in poetic license and the concept of breaking rules as long as you know what they are. Moving on.

I don't really think I'm a *bad* mom (see explanation of blog name); I think I make a shit ton of mistakes but that doesn't make me bad, it makes me human. And I think I'm pretty good at admitting my mistakes [by the way - important distinction - mistake does not equal wrong, I'mtalkingtoyou,1sthusband] then learning from them.

I am, however, bad at a bunch of things and because I profoundly hope no one gets the idea that I excel at everything, I will list them here. But in no particular order other than numerically off the top of my head because really, I'm bad at prioritizing.

Meeting deadlines : I visualize calendar boxes in my head with appointments & meetings written in different fonts & colors and happy balloons hovering in birthdates; deadlines just look like bear traps.
Making meal plans : I have tried a thousand great ideas from Family Circle and Woman's Day and Real Simple and countless painfully cheerful websites, to no lasting avail. I have three apps on my phone for pulling together balanced meals; I have carried recipe cards and vague weekly schedules in my purse. The only thing I'm good at in this arena is planning to plan.
Pulling off "Fashionable" : This is not a call for compliments nor a sad self-image issue; I am perfectly pleased with my basic/boring wardrobe of jeans, t-shirts, camisoles, and cardigans. I have tried trends but I just feel weird in my own body. I don't get how to do belts, or jewelry combinations, or scarves, or lipstick, or anything called an 'ensemble.' I happily live Coco Chanel's directive, "It is always better to be slightly underdressed."
Sewing : The fact is, I just don't do it. Except popped buttons, and then only if wearers of the garments are embarrassed by safety pins.
Housekeeping : I like to tell myself it's my way of just enjoying the important things and ignoring the little stuff for awhile. But I really really hate cleaning toilets.
Returning phone calls : Especially since the advent of texting, I avoid actually speaking to people on the phone. I think I don't like the lack of a visual but I'm also a notorious multi-tasker so if I'm just supposed to be listening but can't see the speaker, I'll do other things [except clean the toilet] and miss half of what they're saying. Pointless, and I get a sore neck trying to hold the phone with no hands. Plus texts are a time-stamped record of what was actually said in a conversation, which is handy in preparing for a job with the NSA.