I wasn’t completely unproductive over the weekend: I did make a couple phone calls, and I did a web update, though dated the confirmation email for Monday morning so my client wouldn’t think “Gee, she’s working on the weekend; let’s give her more work!”

But my overall theme was to relax. My secondary theme was to decorate for Christmas! Last year, we were a bit tardy with our decorations, so this year, I wanted to be festive earlier in the season.

On Sunday, I did some preparation for the next day, such as baking bread for the Cat’s sandwich. But my main accomplishment was wrapping a mountain of gifts. Alas, I ran out of wrapping paper, ribbon, and packing tape.

Packing tape? Well, the presents I purchased for the nine child cousins are large enough to be packed in moving boxes. The heavier cardboard necessitated extra reinforcement to keep the boxes closed.

That $40 worth of beautiful wrapping paper I purchased from the neighborhood boy for his school fundraiser? They were supposed to be “jumbo rolls,” and for the price I was paying per roll ($10) I assumed they were. Alas, they were shorty-rolls. They aren’t as wide as the traditional roll of wrapping paper. As a result, I couldn’t use them to cover the large boxes that I had prepared for the cousins. Perhaps they are longer than traditional, but absolutely not as wide or wider. The paper is lovely, so I will use it for smaller presents, but for the large boxes, I was left empty-handed.

I strung the house lights, helped the Cat stake some little lighted green trees in the yard (close to too cheesy, but the Cat really wanted them!) and bordered the main windows overlooking our street with various lights. I put green glittery garland on one banister and green lights on the other. Little tchotchkes are now positioned on the mantel, sofa, and various bookshelves.

By the end of the day, the house was decorated but messy. The kitchen was a disaster, but satisfied that I had a perfectly productive plan for the next day, I wasn’t concerned.

I would bring the boys to preschool, go to my dentist appointment, run errands, and pick up the boys from preschool. Picking up the dry-cleaning; purchasing stamps; obtaining additional wrapping paper, ribbons, and extension cords; buying and then writing thank-you cards for my birthday gifts; and picking up mail from the office would all be done by the time preschool was done. Then the boys would be tired! The Cat would play while Spliggle took a nap. I would clean the kitchen, vacuum the family and living rooms, clean the bathrooms, and put out the garbage and recycling for the collection the next day. I’d then do the bookkeeping duties for my brother’s companies and any other work-related tasks that had appeared in my email box. I would write up the interviews I gave last week and do a few solicitation calls for my alma mater. I had a perfectly productive plan!

Monday morning came. I got the boys to preschool on time. I went to the dentist. I ran all my errands. I stopped by my parents’ house to write my thank-you notes, but my parents were home so I chatted with them instead. (My parents live near the boys’ preschool, whereas I live about a half hour to 40 minutes away.) I figured I’d write the notes when I got home. After all, the afternoon was going to be productive!

When I drove the boys home, I was surprised to see Husband’s car in the driveway. I told the Cat to be quiet in case Daddy was sick. I was concerned.

Daddy met us at the door and said something about, “Oh, they want to see the kids anyway!”

The conference call. I had completely forgotten. Cleaning the house had been pushed down to a lower priority than all my errands.

I was mortified.

Husband assured me that he had done the dishes. But our guests were sitting in the kitchen on the chairs that my kids had dotted with pen, food and beverage. Partially emptied grocery bags lined the kitchen counter. The toaster used that morning remained on the counter covered in crumbs. There were crumbs in the living room, entry hall, and family room. The stairs had little pieces of ribbon and broken garland. The front bath had been sprinkled by a boy with imperfect aim and the mirror had been the canvas for some soap finger-painting.

I put Splig to bed; he hadn’t napped at preschool, so was perfectly primed for slumber. Thankfully, the Polar Express DVD had arrived in the mail, so the Cat went upstairs to watch it. Neither boy would make noise over the conference call! I quickly cleaned the front bathroom, finishing at the precise moment that one of Husband’s colleagues had to use it (she didn’t see me cleaning!) One small complication was that the Windex was in the kitchen and I wasn’t going to show that I was tidying-up by invading their call to obtain cleaning products.

I was hungry, too. But again, I didn’t want to enter the kitchen while they were on their call. After cleaning the front bathroom and picking up bits and pieces downstairs out of sight from our guests, I went upstairs.

My computer is right by the kitchen table. I couldn’t do any of the bookkeeping, web work, or other computer-related duties. I couldn’t write up my interviews, nor could I order Christmas candy and a new stroller (since U.S. Air still hasn’t given us any sort of update.)

I folded laundry instead. I cleaned the upstairs bathrooms. I emptied the garbage from upstairs. I ended up being as productive as I could upstairs while wishing desperately that I had remembered to clean downstairs.

All the while, my heart was pounding as though I had been caught naked in public. My dirty house was on display.

I remember one similar situation where my (very perfect, beautiful) cousin had called me saying she was five minutes away and would it be okay if she and her son dropped by for a play-date? I was pregnant with Splig at the time, and very behind on housework.

We lived in a very small house that became cluttered easily. I very quickly pulled the grown-up version of “shove everything in the closet,” but this version was “move everything extraneous into the Master Bedroom!” I then quickly vacuumed the great room, put the remaining toys on the shelves, wiped down the kitchen, and cleaned the second bath.

For the majority of the play date, everything was great. I may have even managed to serve some snacks. Then the Cat decided to go to the bathroom. He was potty-training, so I wasn’t going to discourage him. Simultaneously, his cousin had to go. They are the same age, and he similarly couldn’t be asked to wait. My cousin pleaded with me, “Is there another bathroom in the house?”

Yes. The Master bath.

She saw the Master bedroom, piled high with all the toys that didn’t fit neatly into the shelves. She saw the blankets I had simply thrown on the bed. Most importantly, she saw the disastrous Master bath where I had done the majority of my morning sickness vomiting and other not-so-glamorous parts of pregnancy.

I was shaking with embarrassment. When we moved into our new home and this cousin came to bring me a meal after Splig was born, I was sure the place was spotless!

Yesterday was thankfully not as bad, especially because I had managed to clean the front bathroom before anyone used it. Also, Husband kept reminding me that two of his colleagues have grandchildren and understand the clutter of kids.

I inhaled the last two slices of the pizza left over from the conference call and sat down at the computer. I worked several hours straight, updating things right and left, getting through the list of emails (snorting when I found Husband’s again.)

I didn’t get to my thank you cards, solicitation calls, or interview write-ups, and I haven’t done the online shopping that I need to do shortly. But that is on today’s to-do.

I ended up being fairly productive.

When I went to bed, I really wanted to sleep. But I was tossing and turning. Then I heard a beeping sound. At first Husband thought it was the TiVo. Then I thought it was someone’s fire alarm. I opened a window and confirmed that it was louder outside. Husband went downstairs and into the back yard.

It was a toy left in the rain with empty batteries. It was shrieking the way toys left on with dead batteries do. It was a battery banshee, screaming the way I wanted to when I realized I had reversed the priorities on my to-do list and should have cleaned the house Sunday night before the conference call.

But thankfully, a screwdriver stopped the screaming on the toy. As for me, I think I accomplished quite a lot yesterday even if it didn’t turn out exactly perfectly productive. (Besides, the boys are making an enormous mess right now, so I guess it is good that I didn’t clean yesterday.)