SLACKER!

Over the past seven days, the title of this blog has been galvanized.

When I first titled this blog, I thought it was kinda cute, a truism that moms everywhere could relate to.    Motherhood is Easy....As Long As You Have Nothing Else To Do For The Next 50 Years.  Hardy Har.  I suppose the transverse (or inverse?) of my blog title would read something like: If Yo Do Have Something Else To Do, Motherhood Is A Giant Pain In The Ass.  Or maybe: If You Want Motherhood To Be Easy, Don't Expect To Get Anything Done...Like, Ever

Because since this week....Holy Crap.  Jeff and I went to Vegas last weekend and our parents tag-teamed babysitting the kids.  Since we've returned, I have spent most of my time treading water in the endless sea of Household Chores with two cement blocks tied to each leg.  These blocks I've affectionately nicknamed Rollie and Elsa.

Of course, it doesn't help that Christmas is hurling toward us all at a bajillion miles an hour.  It was my intention to spend the first half of the month preparing for the chaotic second half, but here it is, December 15th, and my biggest accomplishment so far is taking a picture of my children in front of the Christmas Tree (see right).
As you can see, it went about as well as I expected.

I've also been busily cleaning up after my beloved parents, who got the anchor-leg of the babysitting gig, God bless 'em.  The only downside to this is that my house once again looks like I hosted Motley Crue for a week (see blog entry Payback's A Dirty Swiffer).   My mother successfully managed to destroy my coffee maker.  I'm not sure how this happened.  She's been operating coffee makers for fifty-five years.  I'm not sure why my particular model is more challenging for her to operate than an F-16 fighter jet.  She can figure out how to use our TV remote (although I think she accidentally recorded nine episodes of Dancing with the Stars), so she should be able to handle a Mr. Coffee, right?

After they left I found coffee on my back-splash, rings of it beneath my sugar canisters, drips of it beneath the sink, black coffee grinds sprinkled like pixie dust across the kitchen floor.  It's like a crime scene--my mother murdered Mr. Coffee, in the kitchen, with his own carafe.  Ay-yay-yay.

So between cleaning up after my house guests, Christmas shopping, getting ready for playdates and parties and hoeing the backyard (I would elaborate, but it would take too long and I don't really feel like it), my blog has suffered some serious neglect.  For that I apologize.  I'll try my best to keep up, although as I sit and write, my laundry is multiplying and toys are beginning their inexorable march out of my children's rooms, down the hallway and into the living room.  So we'll see how it goes.

I will leave you with this....a picture of my darling children sort of happy.  Bribing them with gigantic candy canes works every time.