Well, mostly productive. I took the kids to the drop in, fed them lunch, tried to fold laundry, and when Trixie was here this afternoon we defrosted both chest freezers, I sorted all the contents, figured out a meal plan for the week that doesn't involve much cooking (I have ratatouille, spaghetti sauce, a mushroom casserole, black beans, and frozen pizza. Oh, and pulled pork), and mopped the ground floor. Sic transit gloria mopped floor, because it's sticky again, but it doesn't have as many layers of dirt ground in.
So I feel heroic because I got a very big task accomplished. What with that and sorting all the girls' fall clothes yesterday (they do not have a clothes shortage. They have enough outfits to wear a new one every day until Christmas) I feel useful. Doing daily housework doesn't give me the same glow of accomplishment because it doesn't stay done.
Thomas also just ripped and dumped a wet diaper in a drawer full of toys. I did not kill him. I deserve a medal. He has been... difficult, clingy, off balance, and very tired recently. I love him but I still don't love three year olds much.
I made chicken curry and naan for dinner, and I should go put it all away, sit down with a book, and open one of Geoff's hard ciders. I think I deserve it. After I throw out the damn toys.