DeLappenings: A Major “Blip” On Our Radar

Okay, peeps. Two very important things tonight:

1. I’ve decided that Kelly Clarkson is my spirit animal. She’s like an uncensored, unhinged version of my future self (I’m pretty sure that makes no sense), and she makes me laugh. A lot.

2. A five-year-long dream of mine was realized tonight when the hubby helped me put a 9-foot spider web on our front porch. I might have leapt with joy when we actually got it tacked up. Now if it survives any wind and rain, I’ll do cartwheels.

Okay.

Whew.

I feel better getting those things out of the way.

Now.

Tonight, I wanna share with you some tiny-humans-in-the-household pain. Ladies and gents everywhere, you’ll nod and sympathize when you see these shots.

Heeeeere’s my living room yesterday:

And heeeeeere’s my kitchen:

And it even looks better from a distance than it did in the blast zone.

I mean, how in the mother loving love of all that is holy does it fall into such a pit of distasteous disaster like this, every, dang weekend?????

Can I blame the hubby?

I wanna blame somebody!

Can I blame my children????

YES, I think I can!

Can I blame our changed-up routine and crazy fun activities that left no time to even throw away a paper cake plate??

Yaaaas.

The moral of the story is that it took me two freaking hours to restore the kitchen/dining room/laundry room, and, well, pretty much every other area (save the master bedroom) downstairs yesterday afternoon/evening.

And my soul was better after it returned to its organized state.

But then I spent another four hours on the upstairs, the ninteen thousand loads of laundry, and some major master closet purging and organizing that needed to be done (and still isn’t finished).

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

I mean, talk about a PAIN in my YOU KNOW WHAT.

How rested do you think I felt when I collapsed in bed last night?????

Not.

At.

All.

Sigh.

It’s such a funny conundrum, peeps. How much to clean, how much to let fall into disrepair, and honestly, that never-ending debate changes by the day (for me).

And I think I maintain a pretty decent balance of clean versus let-it-go (hello, Elsa).

But I know that I’m a far better parent when my household is in order, so I guess I’ll just continue to fight the good fight to keep it that way.

And, for those of you out there who are reading this and shouting at me to hire someone to clean my house...oye, have I had this conversation with oodles of people, gazillions of times.

Actually, I get a pretty decent amount of shaming from individuals with strong opinions on this front who feel that I’m some sort of martyr for not letting someone else do the scrubbing for me.

But you know what???

The truth (legit, honest to goodness truth) is that I might spend a lot of time picking up my house, but I do not spend a lot of time cleaning it.

Scrubbing toilets every couple of weeks and actually mopping my floor once a quarter (honest to goodness, that’s about as often as it happens) is NOT the time consuming part.

It’s the daily backpacks and shoes and mud, and toys, toys, TOYS, and laundry and school paperwork and crafting perephenelia, and breakfast, lunch and dinner debris, and, and, and....

I can deal with the toilets.

Gimme a live-in fairy to handle all the daily (hourly?) rest, and then we’ll talk.

Or, magically fast-forward a few years to a time and place when/where my children can make a more meaningful impact on the chores!

(But hold up one HOT SEC, I soooooo do not wish for that, because I love my babies, and don’t want to squander this time, and we’ll get there, the picking up will all get easier, and...look how much I’ve digressed!!!)

So let’s circle back to the final bit of this post, which is a shout-out to a helpful little, totally random YouTube find (thanks, hubby) that pretty much hypnotizes my kiddos long enough for me to fold some whites.

He’s this random, silly dude who does things like drive tractors and teach you about garbage trucks, and go to children’s museums to show kiddos silly things they lurv whilst giving parentals a breather.

Can I get an, Amen???