So apparently I have led people to believe that I actually am keeping up with this upcoming election because I keep getting emails from friends, family, and acquaintences that rail and support both sides. This leads me to believe that maybe I am somewhat of a social chameleon – do I change my opinions and ideas based on who I am with? How is that some people are believing that I am a staunch Republican while others think I am for sure a Dem? Upon further reflection on this topic this evening (this occurred after one glass of one of the best chardonnays under the sun that Classic Old Spice recently bought me for my 35th) I realized that no, I am not really a social chemeleon but rather the world’s biggest fence sitter, swing-voter, non-political person out there. I cringe once political discussions begin because let’s all face it – when have any of these ever gone well? Has anyone ever successfully convinced someone to cross to their side during on of these arguments? The second people start bickering and talking over one another on CNN or MSNBC, I have to change the channel regardless of how good they are because quite truthfully, I hear enough bickering during the day that I don’t need to hear anymore anytime soon. Before you think I might be Maxine from one of those greeting cards, let me set something straight – I do care. Really, I do. I just don’t have the time or the energy right now to really care enough. There is a difference and a distinction here and while this could launch many into a “Oh how pathetic and unfortunate…She used to be so smart and have so much going for her but now that she stays home her most pressing concern is the destroyed “Thomas the Tank Engine” DVD case from the library that Bubba Boo teethed to death and forced her to pay a $5 damage fee. How very sad that her little pea brain can’t grasp today’s policital agendas and plans. Another one bites the dust…” Why is it that I just don’t really care right now? Well, let’s look at Exhibit A…

I begin my day with my newest alarm clock, My Sweet One (name comes from my favorite Phish song called “My Sweet One” in which I now have all of my family singing and for some reason, I immediately began singing to my newest little guy as soon as he was born, hence why he is now called “My Sweet One”) I get him fed and changed then have to get Missy Moo who refuses to leave her room in the morning until Mommy comes to get her. We change our pull-up and put on underpants while I juggle My Sweet One who just might at any moment belt out a frat-boy burp that shakes the walls and then we head downstairs to start breakfast. Notice that I did not get Bubba Boo at this point – this would be because he still cannot maneuver going downstairs yet and must be carried and while I can do many things, I choose not to carry both babies down the stairs at the same time (I am sure mom’s of multiples are laughing at me right about now but hey, this is my world). Once I get some kind of peace going in the kitchen and get my coffee brewing (the holy grail to all mothers), THEN I can get Bubba Boo who is often about to catapult himself out of his crib and usually has a nice, fresh poo almost up his entire back ready to greet me. Once we get that little scene taken care of, he then eats breakfast and my day of herding cats and spinning plates begins. I am not going to drone on and on about the rest of my day because quite truthfully, while there is some semblance of a schedule and routine, there is really not what one would call a typical day ever. Plans often get derailed. Shoes get lost that slow us down. Sippy cups get flung across the room onto heads. Stinky pants emerge just as we are getting into the car. Ghost bottle feedings pop-up unplanned and halt everyone for about thirty minutes. In other words, stuff happens. Heck, I am just impressed when I can actually get out of my jammies and out the door with all three of my muffins also dressed, snacks and sippies in hand, and securely fastened to their seats. Let’s just say that we have preschool, Mom’s Day Out, tumbling class, and Parent-Infant-Toddler classes peppered with doctor’s appointments, trips to the grocery store, and trips to the grocery store. Did I mention we go to the grocery store a lot? Suffice it to say, when it comes to the elephant and the donkey, I immediately think of my children’s Little People farm – not the upcoming election. Am I stuck in my own little world? Am I pathetic? Am I going to hear from people who say “Well, don’t you care about your children’s futures?” My answer to those questions would be yes, probably, and yes. However, while none of my children have a completed baby book (you would not BELIEVE the looks of shock I get when I tell people this – talk about mommy guilt! Missy Moo has one that I wrote in sporadically and neither of the boys have them yet. I promise I remember everything…I promise…) and I often worry they will grow up to feel like they were not important enough to their mommy to warrant the time of filling one out, I am often jolted back to the fact that the time I would likely spend writing in their baby books is the time that I prefer to be on the floor playing with them. Rolling cars off the overturned chair in the play room that only an 18 month old boy would think to do. Playing Littlest Pet Shop. Coloring. Finger-painting. Dancing, laughing, baking cookies – you get the drift. Will my children be sad that they don’t have a baby book or will they reflect and love their childhood memories of playtime with mommy? In a nutshell, this stuff takes time and lots and lots of energy (again, thank you dear Lord for coffee) By the time I flop into bed at the end of the evening, I really just want to read People magazine. Regardless, I am going to try to bone up on the Decision of 2008 once the debates begin – if I can stay awake long enough to actually watch them…Until then, I will be turning off my television once the bickering begins and changing the subject when friends start to go off on political tangents because really, life is just too darn short. I don’t have a lot of spare time and I don’t want to spend it debating over oil, health care, education, and, the hot-button of all hot-buttons, the war. I do believe we need to see some reform and change for the better but I also readily admit that I don’t have the answers and may not be able to hammer any out anytime soon. Does this make me apolitical? Maybe. Do I not care? No – I am just tired.