Day off?

So, Tuesday is our "day off" around here. This is what we've done so far today:

• Put laundry room back together after painting, which included scrubbing the cupboards and floor, remounting wall hardware (hook for ironing board, brooms, etc), mounting the dust buster to the wall (finally, after two years!), and touching up the trim paint
• Mopped all the hard floors in the house
• Swept all the carpet downstairs
• Did four loads of laundry
• Dusted entire downstairs (well, except my room, which is where I'm headed next)
• Swam in the pool with the kids for a 1/2 hour
• Made dinner while kids clambered around me screaming that they were starving (all the while they were shoving oranges in their mouths -- yes, I clearly hadn't provided them with food today)
• Read 4 books to the kids
• Had a battle of the wills with Reid over whether or not we were going to practice his speech homework (I won, by the way)
• Had a battle of the wills with Reid over whether or not he was going to take a nap today (I lost, by the way)
• Danced to "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountaint" a dozen too many times
• Set the boys to timeout three times for not keeping their hands to themselves and twice for rampaging through my flower beds and trampling my plants
• Changed at least 6 poopy diapers
• And everything else I've already forgotten...

Uggghhh...I don't think I've sat for more than 5 minutes today. I'm pooped. So, really, I'm wondering exactly how this is a day off!?!? When did I start viewing a DAY OFF as an excellent opportunity to accomplish a million things, instead of relaxing and recuperating? Those pregnancy hormones must damage the brain a bit...

Editing to clarify: No, I am not pregnant. I'm referring to the fact that with each child I've had I've become seemingly more determined to exhaust myself on a daily basis.