We’re a hot mess.

As some of you may know, this past week was R’s birthday, and L’s is coming up this week. We ended up having a shared birthday party for them this weekend, which they loved, but we also ended up doing a lot of other stuff this week. HAHAHAHA. Not.

My husband took the week off from work so that we could all spend time together as a family, which was really nice, but we suck at weeks where we have nothing to do.

The first two days went pretty well. We went to the library as a family one day, played and hung out. They often have little activities set up throughout the kids area, and L especially loves the coloring table they have set up. The second day, we went to COSI, our local kid’s science center. The kids love it there, and it’s air conditioned, so that’s a win, but all throughout the summer, the place is PACKED. I mean, just bursting at the seams. So I get tired of that pretty quickly. And by “tired”, I mean I’m essentially cussing under my breath the entire ride home about the ridiculousness that it was.

The third day, we made the mistake of “relaxing”. Which means we sat and did absolutely nothing. Then we turned that into a marathon of how long we could put off doing all the birthday party preparations. Turns out, we’re competitive procrastinators. Which left me working on making cupcakes into “Wild Things” from Where the Wild Things Are at 1am the night before, while my husband picked up a last minute random overnight shift. Pro-tip: Just get your crap done. Don’t be us, and you’ll succeed in life.

So, by Saturday, after the party, we had essentially wasted an entire week, eaten too much junk, had an only somewhat successful birthday party, and done next to nothing around the house.

B is back at work today, we’re all working on recovering from a week of “relaxation”, and I’m pretending that I’m catching up on house work. Fact: I’m not. Let’s be real, if I’m writing this blog, there isn’t a lot of other stuff happening at the house right now.

Why are “staycations” such a ridiculous mess? Aren’t they supposed to be easy breezy and fun-filled? Because we don’t know how to make that happen. Instead, I’m sitting here with grumpy kids who wish I’d take their dad’s place at work, a pile of dishes the size of Everest to get done before naptime ends today, and a vacation to-do list that didn’t get done. Not even a little.

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