A friend of mine told me today that if I don't lose my mind at least once per week then I'm not a good mom. She said this to make me feel better after I admitted to freaking out, like way out...I'm talking Pluto-the-used-to-be-planet out over the state of the second floor of my house. My blood pressure is going up just thinking about it, so I won't go into details, but it (both the mess and my reaction to it) was ridiculous.
I'm not sure if it was the broken hangers (proof that someone small has been pulling clothes from the top rack..verboten behavior) or the toothpaste-encrusted sink (which I just cleaned two days ago forcryingoutloud) that sent me over the edge, but man. It wasn't cute. And the most frustrating part is that this morning's freakout did absolutely nothing to ensure I won't walk into a mess like that in the future.
It's cleaned up now, thank goodness, and no one has stepped foot upstairs without my supervision all day, so I know that, as of thirty seconds ago, the upstairs portion of this place still looks like a home where reasonably clean and mentally healthy people live. Not, for example, like a cave where handful of deranged chimpanzees have been making their filthy home.
Now we're off to Carly's first swim team practice. Bree's going to play on the stairs of the pool while Carly does laps. Katie is still a little too sniffly for the gym childcare, so she'll be with me, sweating it out on the side of the pool. It's been a week since I've been able to work out at the gym and I can tell a difference! This is also not cute, so I ordered that Insanity workout from Amazon and am starting it tonight. Basically what that means is, if you don't hear from me in a couple of days, I am probably lying comatose in the middle of my living room.
Wish us all luck!