I wish I could say that we had a water main leak or that the ceiling fell in or....well any number of excuses other than the days have gotten away from me and so has the children's floor.
The upstairs of our home looks as if choas struck.
It probably did.
That is if: IT = #3 + #4
The upstairs is referred to as the children's floor because our master bedroom is downstairs far away from said chaos. Really this is a blessing. For all of us.
Mark and I can tolerate the disaster zone for several days since we don't live in it.
This allows our family to live in peace and muster through my work days; the days we are merely in survival mode.
Tomorrow I plan on giving myself thirty uninterrupted minutes up; I will be able to have it cleaned it up.
I'll put the six loads of laundry in their drawers.
Put the tops back on all of the markers.
Take the stickers off of the doors.
Dress all of the poor naked baby dolls.
And oh yes...
Wipe the spit toothpaste out of the sink, off of the mirror, off of the floor and off of the toilet seat.
(Yup. I could write a whole essay on toothpaste vs. my children. Unsightly. Gross. Disgusting.).
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I solemnly promise to any future guests staying with us at our home:
I will not make you share a tube of toothpaste with my children.
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