Figuring out what I wanna be when I grow up.
Oop..I AM grown up...

Thursday, January 6, 2011

I Gots To Change My Slovenly Ways (but not this week)

Oh the endlessness of the Christmas holidays...

The kids STILL haven't gone back to school yet, and I am really in vacation mode--or, as far in as I can be in a place where drinks will NEVER EVER be served with little umbrellas in them, or be any kind of real COLADA, and there's no chance at all of getting a tan.  Also, afternoon naps only happen because I've gone to bed too late, and not because I'm tired out from all that sand and sea air..but whatever. 

I've rolled right on in to a lovely vicious cycle of sleeping in till (at least) 9 AM, and going to bed at 1.  I hate going to bed at 1.  1:00 AM is stupid (in a house where certain little people like to get up at 6).  It didn't used to be stupid....when I was a teeanger, or even in my 20's, going to bed late was the best fun of all.  Sometimes I'd be up stupidly late, and nothing would even be on TV any longer.  But still, I'd be sitting there with only the glow of the tube for light, watching this hypnotizing late night program wherein someone with a camera either drove or walked around the quiet, late night streets of Toronto.  Fascinating!  Still, it was so fun to be up really, really late.  There was no pressure, because perhaps I was still a highschool student, and I had no job to get up to on the weekends, and I could happily sleep till 11 the next morning.  It didn't matter if I were tired, because the only person I'd be making a snack for would be ME. 

Somehow the house has been kept tidy. 

Let's face it--I derive NO thrill from housework.  I feel very little satisfaction from a really tidy house.  I WOULD if it would last longer than a few hours.  My kids are an efficient and thorough wrecking crew.  Let's get one thing straight though:  DIRT IS BAD.  I can live with mess, but DIRT IS BAD.

No wait...I hate the mess, but I'm sick of being the maid, so it tends to pile up at times.  Then at other times, I feel like I'm full  of rare energy, and I go on a cleaning rampage.  Then there are other times when people are coming over, and I have many tantrums, but the house gets clean anyways.  Then there are those special times when I emerge from my PMS/Apathy stupor, announce to my family again that THEY ARE SLOBS and I go to town on this joint.  That means you won't find a single man hair on any surface of the bathroom (amazing how those things float around, no?).  That also means that there won't even be a single AWKWARD ITEM on top of the stove.

AWKWARD ITEM:  An awkward item is pretty much anything that doesn't have a convenient home right there in my tiny, cramped kitchen, but must instead be put away in the pantry, at the bottom of that stupid drawer of the stove, at the bottom of the microwave shelf (full of baking pans...shudder), or any cupboard higher than the fridge, which my stumpy arms can't reach, and I can only get to by standing on a rickety kitchen chair.  This also involves casserole dishes, which must be "nested" together:  ie; small dish fits in slightly bigger dish fits in biggest dish. 

So, sometimes I am awesome.  Mostly though, after the kids burn me out for about 12 hours a day, the first thing I do is race to my good friend COMPUTER and give him a kiss.  I do not run around and wash the floors.  Sometimes I don't even wash the dinner dishes (gasp).  I PUNCH THE CLOCK AT 9 PM. 

The laundry has become scary.  It's a mountain actually.  I told The Man:  "I'm on strike.  Yeah, that's right--just because you can't see my picketing sign, I'm on strike just the same.  Soon y'all will learn to just be happy with one outfit each week." 
Do you know how I know the laundry has gotten out of hand?  The Man started doing it today.  Don't get me wrong..he's not NOT helpful, but just the same, he's The Man.  Boo, hiss, you don't like that joke, cry me a river.

I think The Man has also given up on any real hope of me getting up first in the morning  (he's on vacation too this week).  But the awesome part is, is that the kids now just expect that DADDY will get their breakfast.  They come into our room in the morning:

Jack:  "Dad, can you make my breakfast?"
The Man:  *sigh* "Okay, I'll be right there."
Evil, princess, lazy karenYES! Zzzzzz....

Next week, I expect I'll be paying for all this sitting around, leisurely blogging, not eating breakfast till 11 AM...painting my fingernails a really bitchin' colour as the kids initiate FIGHT FEST 2011 downstairs....

but for now, this is good times.  And look:  it's only 9 PM.  I have nearly FOUR MORE HOURS OF FREEDOM!!! 


  1. So now you don't even have to leave your can virtually drive your car with music on...

    so much of what is said is my life..calling everyone slobs, laundry pile...

  2. yeah, temper tantrums followed up with apathy! HOORAY!

  3. i am one of those weirdos that can not stand a mess, friends like me to come over because their house is cleaner when i leave.i just can't help myself, then i get all stressed and need meds when things are not going the way they "should".it seems i spend all day cleaning up after everyone that i can't wait to punch the clock at 6! i need to chill out! maybe if i watch that t.o. video ,with its hypnotic 80's sax it will lull me into a stress free stupor!

  4. hypnotic is right, Paula. OH well, I wish I was driven to have a super tidy house, but then again, I may be even more shouty than I am now, because Jack and Ella LURV a mess. It would drive me truly bananas.

  5. Hi Karen! You are so familiar to me, I feel like maybe we've been to each other's sites before.

    Pink left your link in the comment section of my blog, and I am so glad to see that you've employed the kitty rule. The kitty has sort of become the red light of our little blogspot world. We intended it as a warning for the more sensitive among us, but instead it's like a beacon drawing us all home. Sometimes I post kitties just for the heck of it. You know just to get their attention. But shhh... Don't let that cat out....

  6. Hi Blossom :)
    You were kind enough to drop in once before, after I visited you girls at the Chit Chat. The kitty rule is hilarious, but I can't use it all the time, because sometimes I'm a jerk, and I loves me some shock value.

  7. Oh, I can SO relate to all of this! I've been known to hide upstairs late in the morning on the weekend, painting my nails while the kids were fighting downstairs, while Daddy cooked breakfast... all while I'm lovingly muttering "welcome to my world, buddy" :)

  8. "welcome to my world, buddy" AWESOME! That just made my day, Becky, because it's so damn true. I can't tell you the number of times I've derived a sick sense of satisfaction knowing that once in a while, my husband can have the same 'enjoyment' that I do.

  9. Man, I must be really feeling that today, for some reason. I was just telling a friend about the time our 3 kids & I were allllll vomiting through the night & I was crawling from room to room to clean it off the carpet, sheets, walls, you name it. My husband was down on the couch, sleeping (so he "didn't catch it & miss work") When suddenly, I heard him puking. :) ahhh.... yes, you really do feel that mean on a night like that.

  10. Ha! Good story Becky. I love when that shameful joy comes over me. Sigh. He should have known he was doomed. Unless you're cleaning everything and everywhere with bleach, it's nearly impossible to get rid of all those barf germs


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