Lazy Mom

I have been a bad blogger lately. Over the last month I have felt overwhelmed, sad, a little blue and otherwise preoccupied. I am feeling the pinch of taking on too much and having to deal with it. I must be suffering from Super Mom Syndrome. Yes, I can do it all. I am Wonderwoman. I send emails at 4am, try to make perfect homemade whatever and never say no to others when they ask for help. I just need the nifty outfit and the invisible jet. Honestly, right now I think I just need to get to Thanksgiving and

take a deep breath and start over.

My case of the blahs happened upon the death of my grandpa a few weeks ago. I had the drop all of these juggling balls, re-focus and head home. I have to say that Pa-Pa was the sweetest man. He adored my grandma for 70 years and almost made it to his 94th birthday. He loved hot peppers, Louisiana Hot Sauce and dominos almost as much as her, I think. I have just one grandparent left, and that is a strange feeling for me. I was so lucky to have all of them until my 30th year.

I have not really felt like writing anything. I have so much to do at home that sometimes I can't get started, so I goof off. I started reading a woman's blog about her sister and her husband that were in a small plane crash and severely burned. They are the parents of four small children. It is heartbreaking and uplifting at the same time. The woman is taking care of three of the kids while blogging about her sister and brother-in-law's recovery. Apparantly the sister is a blogger, too and has a very charming site. I have been so hooked, checking if she is out of her medically-induced coma and seeing what her kids are doing. It is addicting in a trashy romance novel on the beach sort of way. It is also quite voyeristic. But it makes me thankful.

Thankful that we are all healthy, that I have children to mug on, and that I am so in love with my best friend. The person that I think is both the most annoying person alive and one of the smartest people I know. I can want to wring his neck and miss him terribly five minutes after he leaves the room. It's complicated and exciting at the same time.

Has been for fifteen years. Too much information?

And just when you are thinking, good gravy, what a heavy post......Halloween is approaching. The kids have decided that they will be Hannah Montana and Darth Vader. I told Georgia that I would buy her the wig, but that she could pick from her own clothes and vast dress-up wardrobe since I think store bought costumes are cheesy (sorry I do-no offense) and she has more than enough sparkly, jewel-encrusted this and that to pull it off. She has seemed fine with this, especially since I broke my own Halloween costumes must be homemade rule with Vader. Until today when she expressed her disdain for me to the check out lady at Wal-Mart. I am unloading my cart and overhear "that I am going to be Hannah Montana, but my mom is too lazy

to make me a costume, so I have to pick from my sparkly clothes and make my own."

Did I say I was thankful for this little ingrate? I did.