A Large Side of Bitch, Whine and Complain

Bedtime is definitely sucking.

The troops are resisting getting reacquainted with the routine.

My five-year-old starts school back up tomorrow a.m. after several days on holiday. He won't go easily. Unfortunately, neither will his sister and brother.

I can hear my husband threateningly counting to three in our defiant daughter's room. Now he's demanding loudly, "Lay DOWN!"

Our kindergartener claims his head is pounding. I believe him after having a horrid migraine half the day amid counting how many kids were in our pack at the overrun aquarium. My throat is coated in goop. Consequently my tolerance level for other mini me's whose throats are likely also coated in goop is extremely low.

How many hours have I lost to warring with my children over bedtime? You'd think I were trying to force them into a room engulfed in flames, not simply into cushy soft mattresses decorated in their favorite themes and characters.

Why do my children hate sleep so? I can't think of a better way to pass the time. Apparently my husband agrees with me on that; He didn't rise earlier than 10 or 11 a.m. one single day his entire two-week Christmas vacation.

I take that back. Make that except for Christmas morning, when the kids woke up around 7 a.m. thirsty for Santa's stash. Wait -- He also let me sleep in one day, all the way til 11 a.m. I thought I'd come clean with that now before he leaves me a comment here, reminding me of his good deed. I was wrong. Oops.

Two of my three didn’t even fall asleep in the van on our hour-long trip up the 405 Freeway. You’d think they’d be zonked after stomping from one frigid, stingray loaded touch-pool to the next all afternoon. Of course, they finally fell asleep five minutes before we arrive home, after the hour-long trip back down the 405 Freeway, only to wake up pissy and starving for my poorly improvised bread, cheese and donut (I know. How stupid of me) dinner.

Now I want to sit on my ass and do nothing after such a busy day. Nothing more than suck down a mimosa.

But the dishes say I can't. The rainbow sprinkles on the sticky dining room floor say I can't. And the randomly strewn overalls, library books, dried out baby wipes and loads of other not-put-in-its-proper-place minutia ... Too much commands that I get off this lazy ass, log off the laptop and do something about it.

So here I go.

Scratch that. Family Guy is on. Hilarious adult cartoons trump chores any day.