I have to tidy this morning, because, in huge First World Entitled Brat Problems, the nice lady who cleans our house every couple of months is coming. I flinch when I interiorly complain about how hard it is to pick up all the Legos or whatever. Because I know what a wretched entitled person those thoughts make me. Still, our house is such a general wreck right now that it's hard to know even where to begin, especially since as I clean the children are merrily running past throwing paper scraps and garden dirt on the floor. That's very bad for holding on to any patience, especially when I ask them to NOT DO THAT, AND CLEAN IT UP, and they cry and shout back at me that it's not their job!!! Whine, whine. And that cues Mommy's eternal rant about how I am Not Their Maid, and there is general unhappiness.
|Like Miriam, I run briskly away from responsibility|
But today it will be cleaner (at least for a few minutes), and knowing that the floors are clean and things have been vacuumed frees up enough of my brain to do stuff like organize all the food that I hoard, and possibly shelve some of the books. Not all, because that's just ridiculous, especially since Cynthia just found another lovely pile of free books on someone's front lawn, and gave them to us.