Because if it is, I am just about to quit. I feel like I am falling under a mountain of never ending laundry, a tsunami of dishes and we aren't even going to discuss the toys underfoot in my house. I am definitely developing (or if you ask Chas or the kids, have developed) a clean house complex. I hate cleaning, just like every other red blooded American mom. I vastly prefer taking long baths, ready smut novels and eating decadent treats like bonbons and fudge. But being realistic, I find myself spending far more time cleaning the sink and scrubbing around the toilet than indulging in pampering. Worst of it is, the house is never really clean. It's surface straightened, to say the least. But clean...that's a stretch.
So what to do? Do I throw in the proverbial dish towel and let my home fall to rot and ruin? Or do I buckle down and spend not only my waking hours, but my sleeping ones as well working on running this hovel? I've tried to find a happy medium between the two, but I'm not sure if one exists. So, grumble, grumble...and pass the fudge.
It's getting to the that time of night around here...Diva and Daddy are bathing and Aid will be home from his foray with the uncles soon. Eventually ear piercing screams of bedtime dismay will be replaced with blessed silence and the routine of pick-up the toys and prep for the next day begins again :)
http://365project.org/kastrother/365/2010-12-29
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