No joke: It's April
Seriously. Another whole month has passed, and I stare with incredulity at the calendar, wondering a) when did March get shorter than February; b) did I just sleep through March, and c) what the hell--I actually sleep?
Other realizations:
I don't know at what point it was that I ceased caring about the state of my dispicable home, but I have completely reached that point. I actually allowed someone into my home when there was a sink filled with dirty dishes and baskets (note the plural) of clean wash sitting on my coffee table, waiting to be folded (and where they had been waiting for some 2 days now). I would have put the laundry on the couch, but it was already cluttered with newspaper and plushie toys.
I will not describe the state of my floors, but I will mention that I blame some of it on my dog. What kind of lazy dog leaves crumbs on the floors? Seriously.
My bathroom is often where I potty train my daughter. She is now a sleep-only diaper wearer, which is really bittersweet. I mean, I love the $30 extra bucks per month, but kinda dread the fact that she pees every 20 minutes. And now the potty is a bedtime-avoidance trick. She'll announce she needs to make a visit, and then announce while sitting that she needs to make it a longer visit, and then, some 20 minutes later when no actual "movement" has taken place (if you catch my drift), she banishes me from the room in a sudden burst of need for privacy.
When I peek back in she is sneakily loading the toilet with paper.
To go to an earlier point about the state of my dispicable home, wet toilet paper is really clingy.
So that's my house. The finer points, anyway. Whenever friends ask what I want for my birthday/holiday gifts, I always mention a visit from a cleaning service. Nobody thinks I'm serious.
Now it's a challenge. Come on over for coffee. I dare ya.
__________________
Miles
Weekend total: 48
Other realizations:
I don't know at what point it was that I ceased caring about the state of my dispicable home, but I have completely reached that point. I actually allowed someone into my home when there was a sink filled with dirty dishes and baskets (note the plural) of clean wash sitting on my coffee table, waiting to be folded (and where they had been waiting for some 2 days now). I would have put the laundry on the couch, but it was already cluttered with newspaper and plushie toys.
I will not describe the state of my floors, but I will mention that I blame some of it on my dog. What kind of lazy dog leaves crumbs on the floors? Seriously.
My bathroom is often where I potty train my daughter. She is now a sleep-only diaper wearer, which is really bittersweet. I mean, I love the $30 extra bucks per month, but kinda dread the fact that she pees every 20 minutes. And now the potty is a bedtime-avoidance trick. She'll announce she needs to make a visit, and then announce while sitting that she needs to make it a longer visit, and then, some 20 minutes later when no actual "movement" has taken place (if you catch my drift), she banishes me from the room in a sudden burst of need for privacy.
When I peek back in she is sneakily loading the toilet with paper.
To go to an earlier point about the state of my dispicable home, wet toilet paper is really clingy.
So that's my house. The finer points, anyway. Whenever friends ask what I want for my birthday/holiday gifts, I always mention a visit from a cleaning service. Nobody thinks I'm serious.
Now it's a challenge. Come on over for coffee. I dare ya.
__________________
Miles
Weekend total: 48
posted by @traciAWESOME
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