My latest attempt at convincing myself that I really do need to keep the house tidy and clean ( I know I do, but after a grinding day with the boys it seems like such a chore to then spend an hour doing, well, chores) is to re-name the event. I no longer clean up after the boys' bedtime. I make the house happy again. Really, who wants to relax when the couch is pulled apart and spread all over the floor, you can't walk without stepping on something small and metal and every view contains at least one piece of crumpled laundry (usually all Aaron's -- he's at that age where everything he encounters during the course of the day finds its way on his shirt and inevitably makes him cold, wet and cranky).

Off I go to make the house happy again.