Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

I get really excited about taking care of 'to do' stuff on my list of, well, stuff. For example, I need to buy batteries to go into all of Connor's toys that have died or sound like Elmo on a week-long drinking spree. I need to sweet talk my husband into putting a ceiling fan in Connor's bedroom. (and the way you do that is you go to Lowe's, you pick out and purchase the fan you want, stop by the liquor store and buy Bombay Saphire gin, some tonic and limes. Then you bring it all home and say..."Honey, I made you a drink. Oh by the way...") I really need to fix the seal on the door to our shower too, but that is on another day and more of the beer caliber. My most recent accomplishment is replacing the toilet seat on our throne. But that was all me. I got one of those 'fancy' ones that has a silent lid that slowly closes. (which is really nice except I forget about it when I am using someone else's bathroom and throw down that lid like I'm closing the door on a 1973 Ford LTD) It also has pop-off hinges so that you can take the entire toilet seat off for cleaning. I am pretty grossed out about this in some ways because you know that some senile person out there is probably cleaning theirs by throwing it into the dishwasher.

Anyway, I did that one by myself. It is amazing how much pride you can take in the most menial of jobs. That is when you realize that you have arrived at stay-at-home-motherhood, which is a lot like Hotel California, without the pink champagne on ice.