Stressed

You mamas who stay at home all day with the kids and actually get anything done are going to have to give me a clue. I can barely work on the weekend, housewise, without the kids destroying it all. I was working in the bedroom tonight with the kids playing nearby and literally two minutes after I would finish a task, Laura would come behind me and undo whatever I had just done.

Pants on a shelf for Daddy? Oh, those need to be on the floor. (This, actually, is one of her favorite games—un-shelf the shelves.) Clothes in a laundry basket? Much better on the floor, except for the underwear that should hang around my neck while I toddle around the house. Should you decide to remove the underwear from my neck, I will become a combination harpy/banshee. Oh, and if I get in your way and you accidentally bump into me the slightest bit, I’m going to fall down as if you whacked me with a hockey stick and scream bloody murder. Because I can.

I swear, I felt like Sisyphus and was a blubbering idiot by the time Robert got back from the grocery story.

I know I sound like a wussy idiot who hasn’t a clue about anything in the world. I’ve got two kids—this shouldn’t be anything new to me. I’m telling you, though, that I’m worn to a nub. I don’t know if it’s because she’s teething and that has upped the ante or if I’m really just not that great a parent and it’s finally showing through. (Yeah, I know, shameless plug for praise. Whatever. Get it where you can…)

Anyhoo. I’m looking into Flylady as a way to hopefully collect my clutter, if not my sanity. I’ll post back at some point to tell whether I’m a new person or whether I gave up after two days. She wants me to shine my sink…