Monday, March 11, 2013

Week one.

Here I sit, TV blaring PBS children's programming in my ear, a pile of toys behind me on the floor and Hurricane Girlchild complaining about not having enough Pear to eat, I tried to explain that it was the last one. She does have half a Mango in her dish - that we so carefully selected together at the grocery store, but it's not a Pear, and that's what she apparently wants-at least at this minute.

Week one of my SAHM experience is over and I feel like I'm losing the battle. My loving husband reassures me he notices the difference and the small gains I have made as I attempt to reclaim my home, but I am struggling.

It's like a housekeeping black hole.

I'm trying to implement a schedule or routine. All carefully timed around the departure and arrivals of The Boy. I suppose I'm doing an OK job, but Hurricane Girlchild seems to have other plans.

Laundry- easy. I OWN IT. already caught up and our dresser drawers are bursting with clean clothes-apparently we either need larger dressers or to purge as we had no idea how many clothes we had until it was all clean and put away.

Meals and Dishes-child's play. I AM A GODDESS. meals are planned, groceries are stocked and clean up is a breeze. Salad is again a regular staple, balanced meals served at the table, enjoyed as a family AND in time for us to attend evening activities and not feel rushed.
Getting the spawn to eat the balanced meals is another story.

Look at me go.

My struggle is toys. Tiny, shiny playthings with sharp edges and velcro that sticks to every soft surface. They are in the bathrooms, living area,'s like a plague. And no sooner do I corral  Hurricane Girlchild and assist her in putting toys away, I turn around and  'boom' a bomb has again gone off in an area where I have just cleaned.


The Boy is not innocent in this plague, his toys are more covert, tiny wrenches and screws for teeny weeny BMX bikes and hockey cards. The hide in places like sofa cushions and the bottom of the fruit basket. Silently laying in wait until The Boy yells "where is my -insert toy here-?"  and I scream that it's right where he left it in the middle of the dining room table, or I get tired of looking at it and finally put it away.

So I have set myself a goal this week while I continue to purge toys and clothing, I am focusing efforts on getting The Hurricane to be little less ruinous. I can harness this powerful energy - it is a battle I can win.

isn't it?  



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