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"It was a crazy weekend. To be fair, it&amp;#039;s been more like an insane month. Between this job, some side work, applying for a real honest to goodness 20 hour/week writing gig, taking care of kids, and taking 3 bonsai trips to Big Bear to prep our lodge for rentals, it hasn&amp;#039;t exactly been free and easy. All this burning the candle at both ends could give me wrinkles if I&amp;#039;m not careful. Oh wait, too late. I took a magnifying glass to the most recent line that has taken residency down my left cheek. I couldn&amp;#039;t believe what I saw inside of it: Hours of cleaning while chasing children, too much coffee, not enough sleep, and certainly not enough sex. It didn&amp;#039;t help that I came home last night to dancing cock roaches in my garage - little fat fucxxxers that seemed to consider Rex&amp;#039;s headlights as spotlights for their show. They might as well have stood up on their hind legs and smirked, &amp;quot;What? You were gone for the weekend. We found some Yuban grinds and some old Cheerios in the waste basket. Why should we move for you?&amp;quot; I know that I&amp;#039;m doing too much. Plenty of people - heck, most of the world - survives without investing in a rental property or working some side jobs to pay for extras. Those of you in those shoes - perhaps some stay at home moms - might tell me that I&amp;#039;m missing the boat by working so hard. &amp;quot;Enjoy your husband and your kids while you can,&amp;quot; you might argue. I couldn&amp;#039;t agree more. There is no way I could keep this pace up permanently. But I&amp;#039;m hoping that, after last weekend, we can ease up on the insane cabin prepping frenzy. God forbid we go up and just, oh wait... what&amp;#039;s that word again? Oh yeah... RELAX. I&amp;#039;m praying that my little job interview today will land me some much needed stimulation while the kids are at school, not to mention some extra income to pay off some bills. Most importantly, that cash increase will take care of some private doctor&amp;#039;s visits to address one of my child&amp;#039;s health issues that seems to be a bit more troublesome these days. He&amp;#039;ll be just fine in the long run, but a mama knows when modern medicine isn&amp;#039;t cutting the mustard and some supplemental healing hands are needed to soothe the kinks. Given everything that has been going on as of late, Rex and I have not fought, argued or complained. On occasions when he&amp;#039;s wanted to be a work-a-holic and fix leaky pipes followed by painting bannisters followed by re-wiiring an air hockey table (all in a one hour peiriod while children are clinging to our feet like bees to honey) I have not felt guilty. I have sat with my cup of coffee and chocolate bar and watched him toil into oblivion. On the flip side, when he&amp;#039;s needed to unwind with some geek shows, I haven&amp;#039;t interrupted him to ask for help with school lunches or teeth brushing. We&amp;#039;ve trusted each other to do what is best but, when asked for assistance, we&amp;#039;ve obliged without fuss. * The above paragraph does not include one small melt down last night post folding laundry from the previous week and putting kids to bed when Rex innocently unpacked the trunk of the car onto our living room floor and found me screaming, &amp;quot;OH MY GOD HOW MUCH FRIGGIN&amp;quot; WORK DO YOU THINK I CAN HANDLE IN 48 HOURS FOR GOOOODDDDDDSAKE get out GETTTT OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!?????????&amp;quot; And guess what? He left the room pronto. I can&amp;#039;t imagine why.) As I type this, Rex is putting a screen back into our living room window where, for the second time in a week, I&amp;#039;ve had to break into my own house because locks have changed hands more than a guard in a federal prison. Deep breath. It&amp;#039;s going to be okay. I&amp;#039;m taking a lesson from the cock roaches and going to forget my worries. It&amp;#039;s time to dance. I just don&amp;#039;t want to eat garbage. My cooking is close enough. PHOTO: Our cabin entrance - one I hope not to see for at least 3 months and not until several other families have paid to walk up and down them first. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/relationships/a21858/no-grabbin-in-the-cabin/>