"You keep using that word... I do not think it means what you think it means"

My husband took the baby to visit his Halmeoni overnight and the teenager is of course visiting a friend, leaving me here alone. As in... by myself. Just me and the rodents, who really couldn't care less as long as there's something tasty in their dishes.

"Don't do any housework," my husband tells me (and has in fact called twice to remind me) "You really need to relax." Apparently, he's perfectly happy to have me sit on my ass and do no housework at all.

I don't know what to do with this... the housecleaning fairies are in league with the laundry elves and they won't cross my threshhold no matter what. (The Cabinet Door Gnomes are another story. They're like fricking bugs, waiting for the lights to go out. Every morning, I go into the kitchen and find the damn doors open again. I can't catch 'em in the act but they leave their mark nonetheless.)

So I try to follow his suggestion and "relax", despite feeling that I really ought to throw the towels in the wash first, and the kitchen floor needs to be washed... the living room and dining room need a good session with the Dyson and Oh! Right! I was planning on shampooing the carpets the next time they went to...

er, you get the idea. I have spent the last 7 hours, trying to RELAX. I fire up the PS2 and decide to waste some time on FFXII. That lasted 20 minutes. I thought I should download some more music onto my Zune (my 40th Birthday present, it ROCKS). Downloading takes a long time so I thought maybe reading would be good in the interim...

Basically, I have spent all this time chasing my own ass in circles, with absolutely nothing to show for it. A.D.D people don't relax. We need lists. And stuff. And lots of it.

In other news, Jacob has mastered blowing spit bubbles.

This Baby Einstein jumper has been worth Every. Single. PENNY. I can't tell you how much he loves it. When we walk in the door in the afternoons, he has begun reaching for it with one hand and pushing away from me with the other.

All My GerbKids

He knows he's All That. And he's FINE with it, too.

I can't believe he's going to be 8 months old. How'd that happen already??