Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Anxious.

I know I should be taking on the world being down one spawn, or the laundry at the very least. Instead I sit here behind my little mac book staring at the Trix cereal all over the white carpeting that isn't even ours.
The moment I go to do anything of any value, with the exception of maybe vacuuming (because my youngest is fascinated by it,) he will realize that his mommy is doing something of importance and proceed to throw himself at me or the ground and belt out a symphony of wails and guttural sounds. He's making me aware that this just cannot be. Let's just say I've already vacuumed over 3 times this week and it isn't even halfway through hump day. So I thought I'd give blogging a try again. Perhaps it will be a good outlet-a public display of the madness of child rearing. Maybe it will be a virtual shoebox of keepsakes, memories, and milestones. I'd be happy with some sort of mish-mash of the two.
So anyway. I believe its time to vacuum. Those bright crunchy balls of high fructose corn syrup aren't going to clean up themselves.