Lazy is as Lazy does

It all started last night. Lance was gone for the weekend already, so it had been me and kids, alone, all day. One day--no big deal. But once the kids were finally in bed (note, I did not say asleep) and I surveyed the toy-littered floor, the crumb-covered table, the dish-filled sink, it seemed like a bit much for one person to handle. Self, I said. Self, why don't you just leave this mess and clean it up tomorrow? God knows they'll just make another mess in the morning, why clean up twice?

So I left it. Ate my frozen pizza on the floor in the family room, amongst matchbox cars and half-full sippy cups, ignored the giggles from the kids' room, and watched several season finales on TiVo. Eventually, the kids fell asleep, and I moved into the bedroom, where I let my dirty clothes languish on the floor, and when I gulped the last sip of water from the water bottle, I just tossed it across the room towards the trash can, not caring when it missed by several inches.

This morning I awoke, at the lovely hour of 6:03am, to a disaster of a house. Looking around made me crabby, and I barked at the kids to hurry up. Still, when the time came to clean up breakfast, I couldn't manage much more than throwing the dishes in the dishwasher and starting it.

After dropping Isaac off at school, Vivian and I headed to the grocery store. Once there, I decided I didn't feel like cooking, and why would I, since Lance wasn't home? So I just grabbed some cereal and blueberries and soy milk, figuring that would hold us for a couple days. I had an hour or so at home to clean up before I had to pick Isaac up, but again, I couldn't find the motivation. Lance wouldn't be home and no one else would see the house, so who exactly was I cleaning for?

Lather, rinse, repeat. Every opportunity I had to clean up today, I let pass by. As a result, the dishwasher is full of clean dishes, the sink is full of dirty dishes, the floor is littered with crumbs from breakfast, lunch and dinner, you can't walk in the playroom because of all the toys, and there are clothes all over the living room floor (a half-hearted attempt to do laundry, where I just moved the dirty clothes from the hamper to the living room where at some point, I suppose, I will sort them).

You know what? Letting all the dirt and crap pile up did not make me a better mother today. It's not as if I used the time I might otherwise use cleaning to play with my kids. In fact, other than a 10 minute dance party, I'm not sure I played with them at all. Actually, I spent most of the time exasperated that they were bothering me while I tried to blog, or watch more TiVo, or read People. I was the definition of a shitty mom today.

I'm sure it was an attack of the lazies. This used to happen to me at work: if I was busy, I would crank out work, getting a ridiculous amount of things done, and done well. But the days that were slow? Mistakes right and left, not to mention a bunch of stuff simply left undone.

Crap. Guess that means I'm going to have to clean up tonight.

Or maybe tomorrow morning.


(Incidentally, I'm blaming the lazies for the plethora of sub-par posts around here lately, too. Don't tell me otherwise, k?)