I apologize....

I am a very bad blogger. And I'm sorry. I want to say that it’ll get better, but let’s be honest. It’s a process. Maybe I’ll get inspired soon! But hey, at least I’m posting now, right?

Since my last post, some interesting things have happened. My dad is having surgery later this month, we went on vacation, and I changed jobs (again … seriously, sometimes I think that I may have a problem with work-commitment – more like I fall in love with jobs that are temporary).

The entire time we were packing and prepping to leave for vacation, I was excited. Not only because I was going to Disney World (pictures coming soon, I promise!), but because I just KNEW that I was going to prove one way that I was not like my mother. Now don’t get me wrong; most of the time I am beyond proud that I am becoming the kind of woman she is. BUT there are those little things that our parents do when we are children that we swore we would never do. Travel just happens to trigger one of those memories for me.

You see, every time we prepared for a trip, near or far, long or short, no matter what the purpose, my mother cleaned our house, and we were forced to help….. ok, well, no. She tried to get us to help and we resisted at all costs. My mom always wanted to return home from a trip to a clean house. I, on the other hand, could really care less. Of course, those of you who saw my room any time from say… 5 years old until college graduation, would not find this shocking. 

I love my husband dearly, but Steven is not exactly … proficient (?) at packing and preparing for travel, which means that I do the prep work. This consists of me instructing him to count out 7 pairs of socks, underwear, etc, while I examine his selected wardrobe to make sure that it (sort of) matches. We also tend to put off laundry and packing until the last possible second, which leaves very little time for tidying up after the packing is complete. What can I say? I’m a flawed woman.

For these reasons, among others, upon our return from a fun, but exhausting trip to Florida, I came home to my house, that, let’s me honest, looked like a tornado hit it. And that’s when I discovered that, much to my dismay, my mom was right. It’s awful to come home to a dirty house, and there’s nothing worse then having to clean when all you want to do is nap and recover from your vacation!

So here’s to my mom yet again! You were right, and I was wrong. BUT I will still, never ever ever make my children clean on their first day of a break from school.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m sure I will, and when I do, I’m sure I’ll understand why you did the same thing.