It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s that I just don’t care.

I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m not the world’s greatest multitasker. I’m not even the world’s semi average multitasker. What I am is a hard working mother of two, who also happens to be the president of her local Mom’s Club, who also volunteer’s at her daughter’s school and somehow manages to find time to write every day, all the while, taking care of the world’s most precocious one year old.

Like every parent in the world, my first priority is my children. Then my husband (sorry boo), then me. Well me, these days consist of sitting in front of the computer powering out my naughtiest fantasies for women (and a few men) to read. What I’ve discovered though is I can’t write when my mind is cluttered with laundry, shopping, homework, and board meetings. I’ve barely mastered writing while Dora the Explorer plays in the background without including on my page somewhere “Rapido Boots!” she gasped. “Rapido!”

Something had to give, and for me it was my home. I can’t speak for anyone else, but picking up after a one year old every day is like the blind leading the blind. I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve had to schedule three consecutive clean up times. One – nap time. Two – right before my husband gets up (he works nights). And Three – after I’ve put the girls to bed. I used to try to clean all day. Not because I felt better when there wasn’t a single toy on the floor, but because like many stay at home parents I felt people expected my home to look a certain way because I do stay home.

I’ve finally reached the point where I’ve had to say:

1 F*** what other people think

2 I have a full time job. Two if you count taking care of my children as well as writing. I’m allowed to give myself a little leeway.

Since I’ve discovered the power to embrace my inner slob, things have gotten much better. I still forget half the things I have to do, and I’m constantly running five minutes behind the rest of the world, but I’m happier.

I can now allow people into my home without cringing and blurting out, “pardon the mess” before they’ve had a chance to sit. Instead I give a smile, shrug and quote my good buddy Peter Gibbon’s from the movie Office Space. “It’s not that I’m lazy, I just don’t care.”