Why my husband and I are 'almost' brilliant and at the same time still exhausted.

This past week was pure exhausting. And while I'm not so sure that the kids' mid-winter school break set me off to the point of running to my local Target to apply as an hourly cashier, whatever one might consider to be one level away from that pretty much says how I "just barely" managed.

After 7 days at home with four munchkins [intertwined with a surprise interview mid-week, which basically put me over the edge] my husband and I pulled out that infamous can of Whoop-Ass 101 that we've been practicing with. This is something we save for dyer emergencies, and if asked about early on Saturday morning, my response would have been that we are "absolute genius".

I decided to take some time away from blogging, while my husband and I kicked our feet back and watched TV while snacking on chocolates and wine as the rest of the gang proceeded to execute Whoop-Ass 101 drills.

Take a look:

OK. So I lied.

While these are actual photos of our real children, I would like to notify any parent taking Whoop-Ass 101 drills into consideration that THIS IS NOT RELAXING.

And it does not give you any free time. It only triples the time that normal cleaning would take you alone, and is filled with turn-taking, arguments about who gets to mop, clean windows and vacuum while all that really results are streaked windows, dirty paper towels being dropped throughout your entire house and moldings covered in blue and red window paint from being inappropriately doused with too much water.

So while I would like to blog more creatively today, I can't because I will be spending the entire day cleaning up Whoop-Ass.

Shit.