This morning had a moment so madhouse, I wasn't sure I could pull through it without crying or screaming. The twins were in the tub, and Henry started crying and I realized it was time to nurse him, so I started taking the twins out. It's a little tricky to wrangle them both out by myself, but it's possible. Henry was really working himself up, so I worked fast getting the twins dressed. Then I picked up Henry--and my hand sent me an urgent message that I was not holding a dry, clean baby. He had blown completely through his diaper and outfit, and was sitting in a puddle in his new bouncy seat. And he was screaming so hard, and the bathroom still had pjs and wet towels and bath toys all over it, and I knew I wouldn't be able to clean that up or stain-treat Henry's clothes before he needed to nurse, and I was worried the twins were going to get into the mess on the bouncy seat while I was cleaning up a screaming Henry, and I was still unshowered and wearing my baggy sloppy pajamas which had (1) milk, (2) bath water, and now (3) diaper on them. Not a good moment, is what I'm saying.
Part of my crisis this morning was that the house seemed to have crossed a subtle line between its usual Friendly Squalor and a new state of Unacceptable Horror. In fact, after I decided to see what I could do to improve things, I wandered hopelessly from room to room, near tears, thinking it wasn't even possible to get started. And my mother-in-law is supposedly visiting in October (this is Day 26 of her not telling us she's coming).
But! I got a grip. And I started with the kitchen table, which I have cleaned before on this blog. It doesn't stay clean because we don't eat at it and it's such a handy place to put things. This must change. For one thing, we need to start eating at it. For another thing, I can't stand it the way it is.
Here's the before:
And here's the after:
Hi, table! Long time no etc.!
The tablecloth was ripped in several places, so I threw it out.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 2 of 2 - Last week I talked about the gifts we were getting/considering for Edward, who is turning 8 next month. This week it’s Elizabeth’s turn: not “girl gifts,” ...