The vacation ends.
|Alexander - 15 months|
And I have absolutely nothing productive to show for it.
Sure, I did some laundry. Yea, I did some Christmas shopping. You bet I ate too much and drank way more than my daily Weight Watcher points allowed. I might have gone out and run one day...uh, nope. I chose to stay in and do yoga instead. Chances are good that I devoured a couple of books that required zero thinking. I definitely spent a day
or two without a shower. I'm pretty darn sure I napped every single day. And I'm about 99% certain I'm caught up on the Real Housewives. From all the cities.
What I didn't do was clean out the closets or organize any rooms (except the playroom), put up Christmas decorations, battle crowds on Black Friday, write the three letters of recommendations looming over my guilty conscience, set up any playdates with friends, run the miles I intended to rack up this week, box up the piles of stuff in the basement, or organize my sock drawer. See what I mean about being unproductive?
Instead, I spent my time coloring with my son, setting up train sets with my son, building lego skyscrapers with my son, played in snow with my son and husband, danced up a storm with my son and husband, and watched countless youtube train videos, movies, and a saaaweeet Phineas and Ferb marathon with my son and husband.
Turns I don't really care if I was unproductive.
Cause I bet in three weeks, when its Christmas Break, I'll do it all over again!