Over a month ago I started a new job close to home, weekends free and off at 3 pm so I can pick up the kids from school. All good good good. See I pray for things that I really truly want and I mean some serious Please o Please o PLEASE kind of praying, and 9 times out of 10 things seem to turn out in my favor. Apprecish God.
Anywho. So I have the job, mornings are hellish but we're making it and the days are going well, wrapping up at 3 then out the door for the kids and we beat the school buses home. Life is good and I'm home before 4:00 and just thrilled with having this extra time in the afternoons, that is until I walk into my dungeon of dust. Oh Dear Heavens. Evidently I have been spared for the past 5 years of the dusty den that is my home since I've been arriving in the evenings after the sun has graciously lowered enough to where I wasn't greeted with a lazer beam of creepy particles. We aren't dirtballs and but neither are we neat freaks but nothing justifies the sheen of fluff hanging out on all our surfaces! It's all I can think about now when I climb the stairs of our little birdhouse and I fear the kids might get a contact high off the Pledge fumes.
And speaking of being a dirtball, I am in constant fear of dying and having someone come into our house and deal with my "stacks" of stuff without any explanation or understanding of my methods of organized chaos. What someone may see as an old discarded cross stitch pattern is actually a present for my sister on her graduation from college 10 years ago. Last I heard NC State was still around and she did graduate so I feel it is still relevant and I like to unearth that project from time to time in the hopes of jump-starting my efforts. The box in the corner? Well I am in the process of gathering all of the children's school work so it can be filed away in that Keepsake box you'll find stashed in my closet. And yes I do have pictures sticking out from and taped to and clipped on every available wall space but I'm waiting to find the perfect frame and if they are tucked away in an album I'll forget what size I need. The scattered baby teeth in my jewelry box? I'm looking for the perfect tin to keep them safe. The stack by the computer? It needs to be shredded but it's so time consuming. Yes there are clothes on the floor and toothpaste on the door frame, dishes in the sink, half folded baskets of laundry, Halloween candy wrappers inside Annie's sheets, scattered band-aids, half eaten breakfast that the cat is licking and someone's forgotten homework. But look, it was a rough morning.
How can I make sure that there will be an understanding soul that will walk into my home, take one look and say "Looks like someone had to go stinky 3 minutes before leaving for school, Mommy had to resort to popcorn for breakfast, Annie pulled a sassy mouth diva, Sally on her 3rd day of Trey working the night shift and she got zero sleep because the cat keeps eating the toothpaste and zinging around the house all night" instead of the dreaded "Looks like another case of a lazy, hoarder, maniac mother with horrible parenting skills".
Maybe on the really bad mornings I should leave a quick note explaining the nuclear meltdown that is my home. Hopefully they will come anytime after 6:00pm and the dust will just blend on in.
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