If you have spent any time around here, you know that housework is not my strong suit. For me it is an endless uphill battle: me versus the marauding hordes of dirty dishes, towering piles of laundry and tumbleweeds of dog fur. There never seem to be enough hours in the day to keep up with it all - not that I would - and most of the time I'm okay with that. Then one day, I'll get caught up in a fit of industry that would make your head spin. Today was one of those days.
Kitchen - from such a mess I wouldn't let anyone see it to so clean you could do surgery on the counter top.
Laundry - Every stitch washed. Most of it folded.
Attic - Christmas boxes (finally) put away instead of making our hallway a fire hazard. (I am embarrassed to admit that I didn't get our Christmas lights down until this morning either.) Christmas bags and boxes reorganized. Then for good measure, I rearranged the attic so we could actually get to our stuff.
Dinner - Wholesome and from scratch.
Living room - No stray Little People to be found.
This all sounds great, but nothing comes for free. The price my family pays for my productivity is that I morph from lazy-laid-back-sloth-Mama to scary-screamy-stabby-Mama. I may or may not have screamed at my two-year-old until my head spun around for climbing into the laundry basket with the clean clothes. I may or may not have delayed feeding my oldest child until I had disinfected every surface in my kitchen. I may or may not have had violent thoughts about my husband for even entering the (poorly designed and easily crowded) kitchen. Good times.
Surely there is some happy medium between slovenly and psycho. I have yet to find it.
Let me know when you find that happy balance and how you achieve it!!
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