I feel as though all I do is pick up one mess for every three messes a certain 3 yr old. (and a certain 30 yr. old) makes through out the day. (Although, the 30 yr. old will pick up a little easier than the three year old - well, he has his days.)
So...
Today as I was in mounds of messes, and not caring because I was up to my nose in sewing things, or trying to, a friend came over to try and help with my questions on a serger... I was completely embarrassed - yes Leisa I was.
Finished that and then looked over to my kitchen to see the clock say 10:45 and the dishes were still sitting there from breakfast. So I go to get my hands dirty, and hear a beckoning coming from the back room. I go. Walk into the room to see all my laundry EVERYWHERE on the bed and floor, even the nicely folded laundry. Nice.
Well... I guess... Hudson was making a pretty cool house out of all the clothes.
Again, nice.
(Just to explain this is about 4 loads of laundry and towels, half were folded before. And I hate folding laundry.)
"Mom, dis Hudson's house. My house. See." As he excitedly points to the piles of clothes
"Yip, nice": Me
Oh well.
Go back to kitchen and try to do some dishes, see all the cars on the floor I get distracted from my destination of the kitchen (not that the oodles of cars are but three feet from my kitchen) and I stop and pick it up. Reagan then starts crying or rather hollering for attention with the biggest smile available for her face. I gladly go for a few moments of Reagan time. And some beautiful artwork on my couch draws my eyes in... pen on couch... quite a bit of pen on couch.
Breath.
Get up, wonder to my room to find Hudson in the bathroom with all my necklaces on, my boots (which hit under hit tush), a shirt and undies - classic... I, once again, see another cleaning project and I start going through all those darn wood magazines. (Someone help me; no.... someone help my husband.) So I chuck half of them - shhhhh.
I then get an urgent yelp from Hudson of "PEEEE, gotta go PEEEEE"
I quickly turn to tear down his undies for him (he has to go so bad he can't focus on taking underwear off), as he is dancing, and I get them off and tell him to hurry and this is the ansewer I get from him: a geyser of pee.
Straight out; I just sat there and didn't have enough strength to pull myself up off the floor to yank him to the toilet, plus to be honest it really surprised me how much he had in him. Wondering where the pee went. Oh, the bed skirt. Lovely. I just looked at Hudson. His response, "Sorry mom" (which I hear about 50 million times a day for all sorts of reasons). What was I to do, he said sorry... and I am sure that I am not innocent of never peeing my pants. Mom?
So after cleaning that, plus cuddling Reagan from her frenzy of being ignored. I walked into the kitchen and yes I finished my breakfast plates by noon, +/- a few minutes.
Some days my days never really start... they just don't.
**If you are wondering... Hudson's house, aka clothes, are all thrown on my bed - not folded, it is 9:30pm.
Hey, at least the clothes on the floor made it on top of the bed. My mom would be so embarrassed for me.
BUT - there are some things to be said:
2 good things from today - well 3:
- I realized how entertaining it is to listen and watch Hudson "play" make believe. He has a huge imagination
- Reagan's laughs and giggles are addicting, to the point of not getting anything done
- Spencer took us all out for Pizza... it was a much needed dinner and break for me, even if the music was so loud I could not think or hear Spencer talk. The pizza (and not cooking) hit the spot.
