I’m scared of my house
but I’m not scared of my kids
so at least there’s that

For the first time in something like 19 days, I’m home alone with the kiddos. First we were at my sister’s, then at my parents, and then my in-laws picked us up from the airport and drove home with us, then my husband was home sick, and now… now it’s just the three of us. And the Roomba, who is working it’s mighty robotic butt off.

I’ve pretty much decided to never enter the Bathroom of Doom ever again. This, however, poses a problem when it comes to cleaning. So I’m going to pay someone to clean my house. My in-laws actually did a terrific job cleaning the bathroom and our kitchen and our fridge, but I’m a worst-case-scenario-not-very-thorough-cleaner who is trying to tamp down my OCD tendencies. At least that’s my excuse for not wanting to get in the bathroom and give it one last wipedown. If I go in there, I will spend hours not doing a very good job. Then I will catch the barf/poo tango and bad things will happen. So I’ve left messages with people all across town to see if someone will dare come out here and give my house a good hospital-quality scrub.

Until then, the Roomba is working overtime, and I’m flying through cans of Lysol and that Clorox bleach spray that’s supposedly safe for everything. And all the windows are open even though it’s 54 degrees outside.

Have I mentioned how glad I am that Christmas is over?

I got a telescope, you know. But I haven’t had time to play with it. It’s an Orion SkyQuest Intelliscope. I don’t really know what that means because I still need to read the manual. But it’s almost as tall as I am. It effing rocks. I think I can even see germs with it. Har.