Parenthood: The Disease

I love my children.  I love my children.  I love my children.
Seriously.  I love my children.

Now, on to the point:  why are they so fucking lazy?!  I totally get the whole "I'm-on-winter-break-so-I-want-to-be-lazy" thing; I've been doing it ever since break started.   BUT ... I still manage to wash my clothes and clean various parts of the house and bring in firewood and, I don't know, brush my goddamn teeth.

I raised one really responsible human being, and then I apparently dropped the ball, because two total sloths followed in her wake.  Example:  even though my son doesn't live here anymore, he only needs to be back in my house for like 24 hours, and I am tripping over his shit and picking up his various food items/drinking glasses.  It's like that little bitch from the movie Signs up in here - half empty water glasses in every possible resting place, most of which are largely invisible until I trip over them and spill whatever was in there all over.

The other little one doesn't do ANYTHING unless someone else is involved.  She does not have a single hobby, except for exploring the various aspects of her face appendage (her phone).  She has also perfected the art of deflection, by which I mean that she will tell me before noon that she has plans at like 3 pm so I will leave her alone until then, and then (shockingly!) her plans will fall through.  When I call her out on that, I get summarily accused of wanting to know where she is all the time.  Um ... you've been on my fucking couch all day; I know where you are, friend.

Let me reiterate that I love my children, and I love spending time with them.  The problem seems to be that they don't want to spend time with me, unless I am buying them food or otherwise doing something which directly benefits them.  And then, of course, they are disappointed when I don't want to listen to their various stories at Zero Dark Thirty when they come home (because, as old people might remember, nothing really happens before 9pm, so they leave when I'm ready to crawl in bed).  I wake up at 7:00, even when I'm on break; I can't exist on the time schedule of a teenager; I'm old as shit.

Suggestions welcome.  Otherwise, I'll just have to wait it out until they grow up and have some respect for an old lady who has no social life, but who also has to do all the grunt bullshit work in the house that no one else cares enough to do.