My husband IS the help desk.
And he is one funny handsome devil. Who called himself Fat Roy and got both of us completely cracked up in this picture.
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My husband IS the help desk. And he is one funny handsome devil. Who called himself Fat Roy and got both of us completely cracked up in this picture. Feeling a tad cooped up in the Southern Blizzard of 2011? Feeling like you’re the only one with ridiculous messes and mid-year school disorganization? Wondering if you’re the only one with kids climbing the walls and ahem, driving you nuts? Wonder no more. Mamas speak up! I’ve had several of y’all ask me before if my house always looks like it does in the pictures. Pshaw!! On the rare occasion that I clean something I banish children, grab the camera and rush to get a picture. Because it will never look that way again except the lingering satisfaction of perfection in my memory. Here are a few of the messes around my house before I lost internet for a week and simultaneously had family coming over. My school cabinet was cleaned out by my sweet college friend back in the summer. I haven’t touched it since except to use and abuse it. I took this picture this morning. The idea is that each of those plastic drawers holds each of the kindergartner’s, 2nd and 4th graders individual work and notebooks for our unit studies. That still kinda works with lots of other stuff crammed in there too. The 3 year old’s part of the cabinet is down below, but since he’s following in his older brothers’ (and not his sister’s) footsteps of refusing to do anything that resembles school it mostly stays untouched. At least this time around I’m not pushing the kid to tears. Andrea asked about my kitchen cabinets. Here they are. All of them. And this is organized. I wish I wasn’t kidding. Left of the stove. (Oh look, there’s a Santa I forgot.) Right of the stove. Previously the island in the middle of my kitchen. Rearranged it becomes our peninsula. Left of the sink. Oh, look, there’s the candy claw that we all love so. And Pedialyte lying on the floor, huh. And all of our large plates (that gaping hole of dishes in the upper cabinet? they’re all living in the dish washer and someone should come put them away.) Right of the sink. Look, food next to cleaning products. I wouldn’t pass inspection. Ah, our coffee cabinet. Probably the most used cabinet in the house. The 3 and 5 year old’s room just before the mass cleanout that I put off for days. And now, it looks just the same as this. *sigh* The dining room/school table a day or so after I had bought groceries. Couldn’t make myself put them away right away. This is a common occurrence. *sigh* *again* And this little table goes from school, to food, to school, to crafts, to groceries, to school, and food. Again. And again. And again. I dream of a large rectangular table that will hold all of us. And that I can set our food on one end during the day and school on the other. Oh, and matching chairs that don’t threaten to collapse or having to drag metal lawn chairs in to complete the table – that would be nice too. My beloved computer desk. That looks at least this bad constantly. As Brenda says it’s a horizontal surface. Diapers and fake goldfish? They belong there. Wow, somebody should straighten their wall photos. Just sayin’. That gorgeous laundry room? Looks like this not most of the time, ALL of the time. And that’s not showing you the trash in my yard that the snow is hiding, the older boys’ room, my room, or either bathroom right now. Also, it took me over an hour to pull this post together because I’ve stopped to explain has, have and had, subject and predicate, ask questions about the French/Indian War, pronounce Puerto Rico, have a full bedroom cleaning battle with the 5 year old princess which resulted in my stopping to make her a chore chart right then and there. Stopping again to make the 3 year old a comparable chore chart because he didn’t have anything nearly as cool as that. Getting the baby to sleep, watching him be woken up by the 3 year old fits, getting him back to sleep, and starting Word World. See? The party is over. And now we’re back to real life. Don’t you feel better? :) Just after dinner the other night my 5 year old daughter asked for a slice of bread with butter on it. I obliged. She proceeded to walk away from the table with her bread smeared all high with creamy butter. This is against Parker law, but I was distracted by 4 other wild screaming running kids that have been cooped up by the cold rain. I did not notice when she had dropped it. I did not notice when she had picked it back up. Until the 7 year old Middlest came to me and whined with a smile, sticking his foot in my face, “Maaaaammmmmaaa, I have butter on my toes. She dropped her toast on my foot!! Waaaahhhh!” Indeed he did have butter smeared all over his toes. I instructed him to get a rag and walk on his heels to get there. Go straight to the drawer, do not pass go, do not collect $200. In the midst of this continued hysteria my daughter holds up her bread and sweetly asks if she may eat her bread and butter anyway. I obliged. Because I’m accommodating like that. If you buy that.. well, you know. But my parents came over last week just before Christmas and my kiddos performed their song they had been practicing. Get ready to cut us a record deal. And ignore the tone deaf Mama who snaps at her children to get their attention. ‘K? If this isn’t a better use for the trampoline poles than their previous net holding job. If the low flying plane this afternoon thought anything of this. If I should be proud that they learned their spelling and punctuation (that is an exclamation point on the end with the bucket for the dot, I’m told). Who needs it more – them or me. |
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