Respect for the Bloggers

I have a ton of respect for bloggers.  After a weekend, and a day like today I just do not know how they do it all.  It's 10pm here, and I'm JUST getting to relax, and I'm nearly too exhausted to enjoy it.  A weekend of visiting with parents, and then today with a doctors appointment, pharmacy run, a sick kid (unrelated to the doctor visit for the other kid), weeding, trimming, cutting down a few dead bushes & trimming dead parts off of trees, mowing, sweeping, harvesting some beans and cucumbers, cleaning three bathrooms top to bottom, staging and then taking pictures of my oldest child in his soccer gear with his little medal before we continue to forget to do it until it's too late, of course feeding the baby 6 times plus the 3 meals with us, then going for a family walk and then baths, another feeding, and bedtime for the kids... I can barely keep my eyes open.  So, kudos to the bloggers out there who find time every single day to write something.  I do not know how you do it! 

I didn't write that to get any sympathy or anything... after all, I get to have a few days that are less hectic thanks to busting my ass all day today.  I don't want to say I get to relax for a few days, because we all know that is sooooooooo unlikely to happen... especially if you say aloud that is your plan.  It's sure to be jinxed. 

You really could tell how the day was going at about 3PM when I asked my 4 year old to move about a foot to the left because he was blocking my view of my husband who was sitting there reading a magazine he'd been reading almost every time I looked at him (while walking from job to job in and out of the house).  I really needed to be able to have a clear view of him so that I could properly fantasize about beating him silly with the tote of bathroom cleaners I was carrying up the stairs.  That'll teach him, I thought, to mess up the inside of the house that I just cleaned while I was outside cleaning up the outside of the house and then to read a magazine instead of clean it up.  Hell hath no fury like a woman on her way to scrub toilet #3 after doing hours of yard work.  She will cut you, or hit you with the Lysol toilet cleaner.  I'm not sure which is worse.