Today's Bad Mommy Moment is brought to you by PlayDate Lemonade... Gigi had a friend over this afternoon, and I offered the girls lemonade. I went to the kitchen to mix the stuff up (yes, it's powder, but it's sugar free and made with bottled water, so leave me alone) and couldn't find a suitable container designed for the purpose.
So what do I reach for, in a pinch?
Coffeemaker carafe. Krups 8-cup, to be specific. It was clean, it worked, they'll never know and I won't tell.

I am tired. I mean, really tired. Perpetually not focusing on stuff. I don't know whether to attribute this to inadequate sleep, insufficient caffeine, or the fact that I really haven't had a vacation in over a year.

Maternity leave does not count.

Our trip to the mainland in June does not count. Two weeks in a minivan with two kids under the age of three for two family weddings isn't a march through Bataan, but it's not particularly restful either.

Since I returned to work in January 2006, I've endured nine months of morning sickness, an international move, a job change, surgical birth, and my daughter's "Two's". I got three months of maternity leave (six weeks to recover from surgery and six weeks to dread going back to work).

Next week I am supposed to get a few glorious Days Off. Monday morning I'm going in to the office to hand stuff over to my boss, who is at a conference this week but should be back this weekend. Tuesday and Wednesday are leave days. Thursday we get TurkeyFest off because the company is US-owned. Friday we're having the office fumigated, so everyone gets a day off.

That's four days where the kids are in day care and I plan not to be at work. I hardly know what to do with myself.

If my mother were here, we'd be cleaning out closets and moving furniture. Sorry Mom, I'm thinking one day on the housework, max. If the weather is good, beach and books will be involved. A really good haircut is in order too. We shall see.

Of course, the Ineffable One has a sense of humor, and I am also expecting this to come into play with my so-called plans for "vacation". It is because of this that I will not be attending my high school reunion. No, I won't tell you how many years.

And on that note, back to the steaming piles of housework that await. Tomorrow is trash and recycling day. Wish you were here, Mom.

Twitter is down, so I guess I have to blog for real, ha ha.

My husband, a.k.a. Captain Ketosis, keeps finding interesting things to do with low-carb ingredients. Tonight's invention by necessity was a mock Brandy Alexander, with melted low-carb ice cream. (The ice cream was melting, I don't know, I don't ask questions.) And if someone out there wants to point out what the actual carb count of cognac, do me a favor and DON'T tell me. It won't make me any happier or more sober.

My mom is visiting, which means that furniture keeps getting moved around the house. If there is such a thing as a living poltergeist, she is it.
"Halley" has a cough and a fever. "Gigi" is back at school this week, after ten days off (the motivator for Mom's visit). My dear husband is watching the Red Sox and debating politics on a sports blog, and I am wondering what happened to the acres of free time I was supposed to have while Mom was here.
She goes home on Saturday. I'm already scheming to get her back.

Waiting, waiting, waiting... Once it became clear that I would not see HP&tDH for several days, I picked up my paperback of Book One for a fix. It helps, but it also reminds me that I'm jonesing for a children's book. So to bide my time, and remind me that I'm a grownup, I've picked up the copy of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell my sister-in-law gave me. I am blessed with abundantly cool sisters-in-law.

Deep down I know I did the right thing, establishing domestic tranquility and all that on Friday evening. But I really really really wanted to go downtown, get that ruddy book, and Twitter or phone my peeps back home with "Chapter One..., neener neener." I would have stayed up all night reading and been a wreck the next day.

Now you know that you're getting old when staying up all night and being a useless pile of junk the next day involves reading a book rather than ingesting recreational chemicals.

Mixed News about The Boy The good news is that they are pretty sure it's viral, not bacterial. The bad news is that they don't want to send him home yet. One more night in the hospital, whimper. I miss my baby.
Last night I stayed up way too late, playing with the new feature you see in the upper right hand corner of my page: Twitter! Between the lack of sleep and facing another day with my baby in the hospital, I was pretty useless at the office today. I am resolved to get to bed at a decent hour tonight. Which is looking less and less likely, the more time I bugger around on Blogger, I suppose.
Yeah, the whole "thinking clearly" thing just isn't working for me. The only thing keeping me out of bed right now is the certain knowledge that I will have an even harder time getting out of bed tomorrow if I have to face a ginormous pile of dishes first thing in the morning. Ugh.
My husband is enjoying a well-earned night out, his first in weeks. His primary social outlet - a floating poker tournament - has been shut down while Powers That Be try to figure out whether it violates local gaming laws. Fortunately, he has alternatives. All work at home and no play outside the home makes Dear Husband a tad stir crazy.