Attainable Goal: Paint toenails. It is hard to get excited about wearing summer shoes with toes that look like mine.
Grievance: Can't think of one for today...
Celebration: I have done SO many tasks! And it is only 1:30!
Every once in a while, when I am feeling quite proud of myself, I feel the need to tell everyone how amazing of a person I am. Today is one of those days. So if you would feel free to indulge me, I am about to be braggadocious.
This morning began with a promising start. As I turned over to wake up, I noticed that the clock read 9:23. I don't think I have slept until 9:23 in almost 3 years. Granted, I was up most of the night with Baby Love, but it was all worthwhile to be able to wake up mid-morning. Soon after Big Love went to work (he did NOT have a good night, and for that I am sorry), the boys and I started to get ready. Boy Love and I hopped in the shower while Baby Love slept. The moment we came out of the shower and I threw a towel around myself, the phone rings. It is a woman from church who is bringing dinner for our family! She says that she has to bring dinner over immediately. Normally that really doesn't matter, but at this point both Boy Love and I are wet and naked, Baby Love has awoken with an empty tummy and a newly filled diaper. The dishes are in a colorful array around the kitchen, and the remnants of a large handful of crumbled up goldfish crackers are scattered over the whole of our family room. Ack.
So I had 30 minutes to have my family in clean, fed, and in clothes, and my house straightened. Priority, of course, is clothing. I throw on some clean underwear, sweats and a tank top, and then proceed to chase a naked Boy Love through the house with a stern word, clean diaper, and the first set of clothing I could grab out of his drawers. After I have tackled him down, dressed him, and give him a small handful of goldfish (mistake?) I move on to Baby Love, who is fidgety but somewhat quiet. I throw him a couple of ounces of milk, burp him as I walk him to the changing table, and throw a new diaper on him. After I return him to his bouncy chair, I enlist the help of Boy Love to get all the small furniture off of the carpet and into the kitchen while I start the vacuum cleaner. I spend the next 10 minutes frantically cleaning the carpet, dodging a hysterically laughing toddler as he tries to chase the vacuum and throw himself in front of it. Furniture is returned to it's place (somewhat haphazardly), and I move on to the kitchen. I sweep quickly (one of the only great joys in having a teeny tiny kitchen), throw the dishes in the dishwasher, and wipe down the counters with my Clorox wipes. I contest that Clorox wipes are the greatest invention since...um?...something else that was a really good invention. After the kitchen is taken care of, my 30 minutes is up, so I try and calm myself down, wipe the sweat of my brow, and position myself in a place that looks like I wasn't just running about like a whirling dervish. I pose myself and Boy Love on the sofa and pull out a story book to read. I read the book, and there is still no knocking at my door. So I pull out another story book (I feel this is a very Mayberry Mother type of thing to do) and enhance the picture by holding Baby Love and feed him another couple of ounces as I read. It was a Kodak moment, to be sure. Unfortunately, it was unappreciated, for now an hour has passed, and no one has come to the door. I have given up on Mayberry Mother, and begin to complete more things that I know need to be done. So Baby's diaper gets changed once again, Boy's fingernails get trimmed, can of chicken gets put in marinade for lunch, and all of this happens as Boy Love takes the bottle of Febreze ("spray spray!") and goes to town on the sofa and chairs. By the time we are finished, the house looks great, lunch is on it's way, and I am officially the best mom ever. We may not have been posed on the couch once she arrived, but it didn't matter, because I was not embarrassed to open the door. I am very happy with myself.