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Aug. 6th, 2009 10:15 amOi.
I swear to God, I have been trying all week to clean up the family room.
The family room is the death trap in my house. Now, I'm the first to admit that I am a slob. I'm not disgusting- the dishes get done quickly, there's never food trash around, and if a diaper leaks, the washing machine is going and the kid is in the bath within ten minutes, and that's only because hey- it does take a little time to strip a kid and clean up, and the other one generally decides to throw a fit at the same time. But the kids are still afraid of the vacuum because I don't run it often enough, I don't sweep the floor everyday (I have a two boys- I should), and I'm usually down to my last pair of clean underwear before I manage to do my own laundry. And some days you'd have to be Indiana Jones to get through my house without breaking an ankle.
But for some reason, this week I got possessed with the cleaning bug. I don't know why, but when I do, I don't argue with it- I capitalize on it. This often happens when Howard's out of town, because I have weird fantasies about him walking in and being amazed at the scene of domestic tranquility that awaits him. (Um, it NEVER works out that way.) But I've been trying to thin out the toys, and I've hauled a storage unit up from the basement.
I've been working on this project all week. And my family room is STILL a disaster.
Of course, those of you with small children know why. As soon as I do something, it's guaranteed that someone will undo it, or more likely, undo something ELSE, and while I'm putting that back to rights, undo whatever I just did. It's like being Sisyphus- y'know, the guy who had to push the boulder up the hill and then it would just roll right back down? Yeah, whoever came up with him had kids. Plus, there's the general tasks of food prep, cleaning up after meals, feeding the kids (no small task), keeping the kids mildly clean (I swear, do we have "poop time" in our house?), the kids' laundry, and various other tasks I forget. Not to mention all the books that need to be read, the trips to the park, the requests to play outside (which they're still young enough to need constant supervision), the play-dough, the time-outs, the constant questions, and the cuddles and kisses. Those things all annoy me much less, because that's what I took several years out of my career for. I like raising my kids. I hate housework.
My new icon cracks me up. It's kind of patchy, but it's from this comic strip (from The Least I Can Do). I swear to God, that's going to be my boys in a few years. I'd bet money on it.
And since this is a domestic post, why not?
( Reasons I have to clean )
I swear to God, I have been trying all week to clean up the family room.
The family room is the death trap in my house. Now, I'm the first to admit that I am a slob. I'm not disgusting- the dishes get done quickly, there's never food trash around, and if a diaper leaks, the washing machine is going and the kid is in the bath within ten minutes, and that's only because hey- it does take a little time to strip a kid and clean up, and the other one generally decides to throw a fit at the same time. But the kids are still afraid of the vacuum because I don't run it often enough, I don't sweep the floor everyday (I have a two boys- I should), and I'm usually down to my last pair of clean underwear before I manage to do my own laundry. And some days you'd have to be Indiana Jones to get through my house without breaking an ankle.
But for some reason, this week I got possessed with the cleaning bug. I don't know why, but when I do, I don't argue with it- I capitalize on it. This often happens when Howard's out of town, because I have weird fantasies about him walking in and being amazed at the scene of domestic tranquility that awaits him. (Um, it NEVER works out that way.) But I've been trying to thin out the toys, and I've hauled a storage unit up from the basement.
I've been working on this project all week. And my family room is STILL a disaster.
Of course, those of you with small children know why. As soon as I do something, it's guaranteed that someone will undo it, or more likely, undo something ELSE, and while I'm putting that back to rights, undo whatever I just did. It's like being Sisyphus- y'know, the guy who had to push the boulder up the hill and then it would just roll right back down? Yeah, whoever came up with him had kids. Plus, there's the general tasks of food prep, cleaning up after meals, feeding the kids (no small task), keeping the kids mildly clean (I swear, do we have "poop time" in our house?), the kids' laundry, and various other tasks I forget. Not to mention all the books that need to be read, the trips to the park, the requests to play outside (which they're still young enough to need constant supervision), the play-dough, the time-outs, the constant questions, and the cuddles and kisses. Those things all annoy me much less, because that's what I took several years out of my career for. I like raising my kids. I hate housework.
My new icon cracks me up. It's kind of patchy, but it's from this comic strip (from The Least I Can Do). I swear to God, that's going to be my boys in a few years. I'd bet money on it.
And since this is a domestic post, why not?
( Reasons I have to clean )
