A Little Cheese, Please, To Go With My Whine

Coming home is hard after vacation.

Not the actual coming home, because I'm all about sleeping in my own bed with my own pillow and my own blankie, and Heaven knows I was so excited to see my babies...

but...

Have Mercy....the laundry. And the errands. And the cooking. And the cleaning. And the children evidently did not forget how to fight while I was gone (as I had so hoped while I was holed up in my bamboo infested hotel room).

I don't believe in the Google Reader, as many of you know, but I don't have to have a Reader to tell me how behind I am on all my blogeeps' bizness. I feel so out of the loop. And I can't stand to be left out.

My heart is still heavy from burdens that some friends and family members are carrying, and helplessness does not become me. I'm a doer. And a fixer. And though I know that prayer REALLY is enough, sometimes I just feel like my hands are tied as to what to do.

So, I'm reeling.

My mind is in a thousand different places.

My house has been hit by the Great Suitcase Tornado of June '09, and it seems as though the dirty clothes multiply as fast as I get some of them washed.

And my refrigerator is full of nothing except fishsticks, hot dogs, and a couple of cans of my dad's Diet Lemon Tea that he forgot to take with him.

I may or may not get to the store.
I may or may not get my laundry done.
And I may have to just ask you all to forgive me on the blog reading and just start fresh. (If I had a Google Reader, I'd contemplate hitting "Mark All As Read.")

Because I'm tired.

And though vacations are amazing....

Home is better. And I somehow need to find mine under all the chaos.