I'm going to be buried alive by toys and dirty laundry, and there's nothing I can do about it. I am the only one that picks up around here. And I am sick to death of tripping over toys, books, Lucy's shoes, Casey's shoes, garbage, the kids' clothes, Casey's clothes-- do not even get me started on the CRUMBS...or our garage...or our backyard...
Every night I make the rounds: dishes, toys, laundry. And then I do a general sweep of the house to put away any miscellaneous crap that might be out. My day is all about the kids, my evening is all about the house. I am always "on". Always going. Always busy. I want a break. I want to do something for myself that I enjoy. (You know, like besides showering.)
Anyone see why I can be a little crazy at times? ANYONE??
The reason I'm blowing up right now has nothing to do with any of that, though. I am furious because the center cushion of the couch I bought less than 6 months ago has a big, BLACK stain on it. I've been scrubbing that stupid couch since Lucy became mobile, and I don't mind the occasional milk spill or soggy cracker, but there is no way this ugly stain is coming out.
So I give up.