My Everyday Scenery

   I am pretty sure I live with monkeys. Seriously. All these new gadgets for "child proofing" your home make me laugh. Now my children are awesome- they help clean up when asked, they use their manners, they pick up on things quickly, they are compassionate- and they make the largest messes you have ever seen in the blink of an eye.
  It's currently 9:38 am. My house was clean when I woke up this morning, and now.. well lets just say the only company I would allow in here would have to be a seriously non-judgemental close friend. I just found marshmallow on the walls. Post chewing.
   I see those stupid plastic things that are supposed to stop your rugrats from getting into the cabinets and I laugh. My kids figured those puppies out in less than the time it took me to figure out how to install them. We don't actually have a pantry, we have a wire shelf on wheels in our laundry room. This allows for food raiding at any moment, (hence the marshmallows) and my children have figured out that whatever they want is just beyond their little sticky fingers. . . so they push over a case of water, or a box of energy drinks (thank HEAVEN they have not figured out how to open cans yet) and they instantly have access to whatever little goodies they can find.
   Yesterday in less time than I could say "please be careful with that" there was an entire bag of Cars shaped Pretzels on my living room floor. FOR REAL?
   What on Earth do these kids think I am? For starters I have more laundry than a freaking Dry Cleaners to take care of. The dishes in my sink are piled high, and I am currently working hard to train my Doberman pup- more on her soon, promise.
    I am half convinced I am going to be one of those people who 10 years after moving in still have boxes in the corner. I have 2 times the amount of space and I think my possessions just got larger. How did I fit this stuff in my townhouse? where did all these toys come from. . Good God I have a Birthday party here in a few weeks- some of this stuff has to go. I had a dream last night, no joke, that I rented a moving truck and filled it with things I did not need and sent it all to Goodwill. It put me in a great mood, until I woke up and discovered a pile of things in the middle of my bedroom floor that keeps getting bigger.

   I am greatly looking forward to the day my children can clean their own rooms. . Or at least reach the sink.

  I look at magazines and blogs of nice organized houses. the kind without a yogurt stain on the couch, and mismatched flip-flops. The ones where I could actually have time to bake like I want to. . and then I realize why my house does not look like that. Because as wonderfully messy as these kids are, they are MINE.. and they are REAL.. and they are having one heck of a childhood.

Eh, I will clean it up--- And in a few years I will hire a maid-- so I can bake.. and she can clean.