Whiskers, Writing, and Juggling Acts

I got it!  This is Willow!  I'm proud of myself because it took my kids taking my camera away, the batteries going dead before I could take some decent pictures, the computer not being set up, an arguement with my husband to fix it, and finally success!  But my husband is annoyed with me- I'll have to fix THAT later.  Willow is awesome.  We (as in me and the kids) are in love with him, so in a few weeks I'll make it official and adopt him.  We have him in a heated storage room attached to our house because we are acclimating (is that a word?  too lazy to look it up) him to our family, which includes a motley pack of dogs.  Two of said dogs would probably like to hunt the cat, and do some not so nice things to him, but they are also the two senior, arthritic dogs who hopefully couldn't catch him.  The third dog could, but is the biggest coward you ever saw, and a well placed swat from the cat would put her in her place.  Unfortunately, Willow is too nice to swat her, but they were okay together anyway.

Next topic, juggling acts.  Does anyone else feel like they are in a not so successful juggling act?  Because that would be me.  If I write, my house self-destructs.  If I clean, I don't write, and the house still self-destructs.  Then, because I work part-time doing 12-hour shifts, any progress I have made in any area has completely disintegrated and I live in fear that that hoarders show will come knocking at my door.  Meanwhile my children are wandering around, semi-unattended, with an occasional shout from my husband who has reached the end of his patience.
Little side story to illustrate:
The other day my 5 year old went running into the office where he was sitting, yelling, "ATTACK!"  My husband said, "NO!"  So she went into retreat yelling, "UNATTACK!"

I'm going to finish this blog off now because one of the senior dogs lying by me has gas and the air is quite noxious right now!  Plus I have to corral the wandering kids and throw them into bed.