Post #472 or "I am drowning in my own stream of consciousness."

That's pretty ridiculous isn't it?! One and a half years, & I have 472 posts! In my defense, some of them are only back links for my side bar and quite a few (from Early January of '06, when I wasn't actually blogging yet) are post dated and only BlogThing quizzes.

Last night I was talking to Art on the phone (which I do most nights) and we couldn't seem to carry on a coherent conversation. Not that that is very unusual for us, but last night was worse than most. Neither one of us could seem to finish a thought.

I commented that my blog posts seemed to be taking on the same attributes. Once upon a time I could pick a topic and post. Now it's a little of this and a little of that...mainly stream of consciousness things. Art said that was OK, at least I was posting (unlike her lately). That's when I said I thought I was drowning in my own stream of consciousness. Some days I barely tread water!

Today we are going to the playground and having a picnic. Yesterday it was so nice outside and I told #1 Son if he would pick up his room, we could go to the playground after we picked BabyGirl up from school. Unfortunately he decided to wait until time to walk out the door to decided to clean up. Too late, bud. We did not go to the park & I'm pretty sure I won the daily prize for "Worstest Mommy Ever!" (that's Mr. CA's phrase, but Art and I are adopting it as our own). In the car outside of the school, I told him if he cleaned up when we got home, we could go today instead.

Bed time is between 7:30 & 8 o'clock on the funny farm. No one took me seriously about the whole "clean up the disasters you've created or we're not going tomorrow" thing until 8 pm. It was not pretty. They had spent the entire day dragging things out...all the while being told it had to be clean before bed or there was no playground today. Eventually it got done, but not in the nice, "Yes, Mommy. What ever you say, Mommy" way I'd have liked. It was much closer to Mommy loosing her grip & kids yelling that they couldn't do it themselves & BabyGirl informing me she wished her dad was there instead of me because he'd let her do anything she wanted & eventually they were not allowed to leave their rooms until the jobs were done.

At 6:34 this morning, #1 Son came tearing into our bed room and announced, "MOMMY!!! MY ROOM IS STILL CLEAN!!!" Way to go man. Now I have to keep them calm until the dew drys enough to go to the playground...no one likes wet swings or a wet slide. We may sneak in a quick visit to see Busha and Bucka while we're at it.