1 teenage almost-graduate + 4 bickering children + 4 pre-pubesant tweeny-boppers + 1 teething baby x large house - 1 mother = one extremely frazzled me.
Now, I've never been particularily good at math (and when I say that, I mean I'm no good at math at all, not even in the slightest), but I am smart enough to realize that such an equation would leave me pulling out my own hair out by the roots. Two weeks, I should be alright... right? Not so much.
I'm pretty sure I strike fear in the hearts of infants, due to the fact that I am running around the house very similar to that of a chicken with its head freshly removed. If that chicken were some form of chicken-hulk hybrid, I would be such beast. My mom will be impressed if she returns home to her children still possessing all 4 limbs.
It's Valentine's week at school this week and each day those participating have to bring in a treat (according to the day) for their chosen secret valentine. Tomorrow, Thursday, is 'something home-made'. Now, I'm not sure what that exactly entails, but I'm guessing cookies will be rather popular tomorrow. My question is, would going to the grocery store and buying a box of cookies count as cheating, or as a grace bestowed upon my valentine? I'm sure store-bought cookies would be far more edible than anything I could possibly make at home. I have, however, bought instant cake mix, and will attempt to make cupcakes. Stay tuned to see if I burn the house down.
A few days ago I received a letter in the mail from the lovely folks at Distance Education Center, politely telling me to get my 'rear in gear' with my Writing 12 course, if I would like to finish in time to get the credits. How thoughtful. True story though, I was sent the course last June, and have only sent in, what, 4 homework packages? 2 of those from the past 2 weeks. I should probably get on that.
The funny thing about this blog, is that I'm sure no one is reading it, but it still feels rather theraputic. Like an online diary where I can vent all of my frustrations and crack lame jokes at my own intelligence. I don't mind laughing at myself.