11:00 Friday night, my son and I return from our trip to Washington, DC.  Daughter runs up to me, wraps her arms around me and I think, “Oh, how sweet.  She’s missed me.”  It’s a warm fuzzy moment.  Then she looks up and me and rather plaintively says, “I’m so glad you’re home, Momma.  It’s been so dirty here.”

And she’s right.  Dirty dishes, dirty clothes, dirty floors.  Living room rearranged and there’s a half-put-together PING-PONG TABLE in my floor.  Er…there are so many things wrong with that.  Number one, we can’t play ping-pong in the living room.  Things will get broken.  Number two, once it’s finally put together how in the *&^@! will we get it out of the house?  (No worries, we did.)

Needless to say, things are just now returning to normal and I’ve almost caught the laundry up.  Baby steps, Rhonda.  Baby steps.