February 25, 2010

Yeah, I know I suck at this whole blogging thing.

BUT!

I've been busy.

A couple of weeks ago we had ceramic tile put in our house and I've been trying to get my house back in order. Epic fail. Then yesterday we got a new couch and I had to do the whole flight-of-the-bumblebee speed-cleaning thing because God forbid someone come in my house and it smell like ass.

Which, by the way, it did.

I noticed it when I walked by my sons' bedroom. It was most definitely a formidable scent. Reminded me of dumpster juice. Finally I decided to brave the smell and see if I could find the source. I expected to find some sort of deceased small mammal, perhaps a raccoon, but instead I found a long-expired cup of what was once chocolate milk. It had leaked into a Rubbermaid tub.

Oh, I know how it got there. When you tell your four-year old son to "clean his room," he assumes that throwing things into the closet is a perfectly acceptable solution.

We put said nasty Rubbermaid container on the back porch, threw the cup away, opened the windows and went Febreze crazy. The smell dissipated, thank heavens, but the trail-o-crap that follows my children everywhere did not.

I bought some touch-up paint for our living room and I know damn good and well that I gave them the right paint sample. Too bad it came out about 3 shades darker than what the room was. So I spent two days painting over boogers and scratches and poorly-drawn train tracks while listening to my iPod. Then it looked like crap, so I painted the whole room.

But then I missed some spots and had to go over those. But it didn't look quite right. So I painted the baseboards. And then the front door didn't match so I had to paint it too.

It was like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie: Interior Decorating Edition.


This morning I feel more like what I imagine a 90-something woman would. My joints are creaking and I'm shuffling rather than walking across the floor. My hips hurt and my arthritic wrist is acting up.

Maybe if I'm lucky I can take a hot shower, wash away all the traces of motherhood with the new Bath and Body Works shower gel I got the other day, take the time to shampoo AND condition my hair. I might even shave my legs! I'll apply a clay facial mask to zap my zits, casually blow-dry my hair...

Or, I'll take a two minute bath, be finished before the water's finished running and not even get all of the chocolate smears off, all the while being yelled at by a two year old in a pull-up and high heels that "I poop! Sorry I poop in my bed," forgetting a towel so that I have to drip all the way to the linen closet, remember that I have no clean underwear, throw on the aforementioned yoga pants, hair goes in a ponytail and voila. Tres chic.

And after writing that, I'm too tired to actually take that bath. I think I'll sit here and smell funky instead.

Besides, it's time for Maury, and you are NOT the father.