I live in a mad house. Or rather, I live in a house with three boys. Three incredibly rambunctious, loud, fearless, crazy boys.
I am not feeling well this week and decided to stay home on Wednesday. However, it was not an easy decision. Mainly because the boys stay home with Stephen on Wednesdays and I was concerned that missing work might not prove to be all that beneficial or restful. When I am home I am expected to pay attention and participate in activities, regardless of my condition (don't worry, the same is expected of Stephen--no one is ever afforded a true free day when the boys are present--it's called parenting).
And although I did stay in my pajamas for most of the day and get in a healthy dose of lounging, I still had to put up with this:
Does any of this look restful to you? No, the answer is no! It's a good thing they're all so damned cute.
I am not feeling well this week and decided to stay home on Wednesday. However, it was not an easy decision. Mainly because the boys stay home with Stephen on Wednesdays and I was concerned that missing work might not prove to be all that beneficial or restful. When I am home I am expected to pay attention and participate in activities, regardless of my condition (don't worry, the same is expected of Stephen--no one is ever afforded a true free day when the boys are present--it's called parenting).
And although I did stay in my pajamas for most of the day and get in a healthy dose of lounging, I still had to put up with this:
Does any of this look restful to you? No, the answer is no! It's a good thing they're all so damned cute.
