Not how I wanted to channel my productivity.

Saturday I barely sat still long enough for a cup of coffee. I was out the door before I had even been awake for an hour. Off to Michael’s to get red and white pipe cleaners for an advent craft we have coming up, and then Barnes and Nobel to pick up a few magazines for under the tree (oh, and did I donate another $20 worth of books? whoops…), and I even braved the mall to use a coupon that was going to expire. Next there was a necessary stop at the gas station to fill up for the week, a quick dash into the liquor store, and then a much longer trip to Target where I got literally a cart-full of food and baking supplies. You’d think three hours of shopping would have worn me out, but as I was unloading all of my groceries, I decided what I really needed to do was to organized the pantry food closet. So I took every single item out, washed the shelves, threw out those cans of sweetened condensed milk from 2003, and reorganized everything back in there. It is amazing how much room I have now. Then I had to make my counters shine, unloaded the dishwasher and loaded it right back up, and oh! laundry! I did two loads of that. Not once – not once – did I curse Bee for leaving every sock inside out. I just patiently flipped every single one right-side out. And the same as I pulled the sleeves back the way they go as I hung up her jackets. She’s six. She’s quirky. And alive. Oops, no thinking, it was time to make the cookie dough. Mayan hotties need to chill in the fridge before you can expect its dough to be in the mood for any kind of cookie-forming. While that was chilling, I spent several hours flipping laundry and cleaning out the front room – what Bee called the “P.S.” room last week. As in when Santa writes in his note, “P.S. Since you’ve been such good girls this year, I left an extra present in the front room.” So now you can actually see the floor in the “P.S.” room, now that I’ve put Barbie boxes away in the closet, thrown out a bag of trash, two bags of recycling, and pulled together another bag of toys to donate. I talked to my mom (twice), my mother-in-law (twice), and my sister. I cooked dinner, had a hot bath, read a book, put away the laundry, cleaned off the mountain of crap off the dryer and watched Lord of the Rings.

Sunday I made four batches of fudge, cleaned out the fridge, drove the toys to the donation center, gave my shelves/buckets to the neighbor, baked 8 dozen mayan hotties, 3 dozen peanut butter kiss cookies, and countless chocolate chip cookies, cleaned the girls room, unearthed Kim’s bed and cleaned the rest of her room, cried over pictures of the girls in this year’s scrapbook, coordinated getting the girls’ polos to them for their church play, talked to their friend’s dad about getting the girls’ jackets that they forgot at their friend’s house on Saturday, cooked dinner, talked to my sister again, and had a pep rally with a friend for the Pats’ game tonight.

My house is cleaner than it’s been in ages, I have most of my holiday baking done, but no matter how busy I keep myself, I still can’t seem to figure out how in the world the parents of those 20 beautiful children are coping. And it doesn’t make the time go by any quicker until I can hug mine.

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