Situation of Epic Proportions

You might need to sit down.

I know the photo above is shocking.

I believe this may be the first time ever that this has happened in our home.

I had to take a picture.

It lasts longer that way.

Queenie, You're FIRED!

Can you see Donald Trump?  He's here in my living room, comb over and all.  Pointing his finger at me as he surveys the clutter and buildup that's threatening to close in.  The tense music swells as he takes a breath, the little Trump sibs glance at each other knowingly.  He makes his declaration with that cheesy sweep of his hand, and I nod complacently.

Truth is, I should be fired.  I totally suck as a housewife.  Not always, but right now I do.  In fact, as I sit here on my arse, typing yet another blog entry I can see dishes stacked in the sink, waiting for some soul to pick off the dried on food.  I know there are about 5 loads of laundry waiting to be folded, while another two loads sit folded on my bed, waiting for someone to put it away.  We will be lucky if they don't just get dumped back into the hamper at 11pm tonight when I drag my body off to bed and don't have the energy to deal with it.

Who, me?

Yeah.  I suck.  I'm not sure what my deal is right now but I can't find motivation to do much of anything lately.  Can I blame Mother Nature on this?  Surely this cycles too, just like every other thing that sucks about being a girl.

And the poor hubs.  He works his tail off at work, and I want more than anything for our home to a warm, welcoming and peaceful place for him to return to.  I DO want him to WANT to come home afterall.  I'll never, ever forget a book I read once at a woman's Bible Study.  The author counseled that a good wife would have the house cleaned, dinner on the table and the children cleaned and calmly tucked away when the husband came home from his hard day at work.  I laughed my butt off at that - and I only had two kids back then.

Sorry babe, can't quite live up to THAT.  But in all seriousness, I do feel some sort of responsibility to have things at least somewhat bearable around here.  And I'm definitely falling down on that job lately.  And I feel guilty.  A few days ago while hubs washed the dishes that threatened to take over the sink, I stood behind him and apologized profusely for slacking, saying I felt bad that he had to work all day and then come home and work too.

Know what he said?

"You work all day too babe".

Swoon.  How do I even deserve that?

So here's the deal, I've got to get myself in gear.  Pull out of this funk or something.  Face reality that there will ALWAYS be dishes and laundry to do - put the big girl panties on and deal with it.  It's not going away.

I don't want to give Trump a reason to flail his wimpy firing hand at me.  I can totally rock this housewife thing.  I bet Trump doesn't even know how to do laundry.

So there.

All I want for Christmas

Today Princess #1 told me that all she wanted for Christmas was a laundry person, so that I can spend less time doing laundry and more time with them....  I'd say that's a reasonable request!  Oh Santa....  :-)

The Hostess

Well, I've survived Thanksgiving.  I've decided that I am not a good hostess.  I make a MUCH better guest.  I enjoy having people in my home and would probably enjoy it more if my home were bigger and had more space for people to spread out.  But that's not an option at the moment, so this year I was faced with the inevitable: hosting Thanksgiving dinner in our tight quarters.  Even though Planet Pink is always bustling with activity, I'm typically able to mostly stay on top of it.  But add 3 extra adults and another bouncing pink baby and well, you've got Your Majesty running in circles.  

I've washed more dishes in the last 24 hours than I probably did the entire week prior.  I wouldn't be sad if I never had to peel another potato again.  Ever.  I fought to keep the Princesses on some sort of a routine.  The laundry piled up so high that today (the day after) I have literally done 5 loads of it and probably have another 5 to go.  

Certainly this aftermath can take the joy out of any holiday celebration.  It's sorta hard to feel thankful for much of anything when you're vacuuming, washing, sweeping, washing, etc. etc. etc.  But then those Princesses bring it all back around.   Princess #1 asks me to tell her Daddy how thankful she is that he works so hard for us, when he gets home from working Black Friday.  Princess #2 tells me in her sweet voice that she wants to be my friend forever because she loves me so much.  And Princess #3 comes running so willing to just plant one on me at any given second.  And that somehow makes it all worth it.  The mind-numbing exhaustion, the clutter, the pruny dishwater hands.  I'd do it all again in a heart beat.  And I do, every day.

The Perfect Homemaker

Ugh, why do I just not feel like blogging lately?  I'm in less of a funk these days, but still not 100%.  My parents are visiting right now, which is good and bad at the same time.  I love my mom and dad.  I have a great relationship with them.  But I am very very different from my mother, and in alot of ways I feel very inadequate when I'm around her.  

She's "SUPER housewife".  You know, the kind that has the clean dishes emptied from the dishwasher before they've stopped steaming from the heat.  The kind that only has about a days worth of dirty laundry sitting in the laundry baskets at any given moment.  The kind that plans meals way in advance and always has a pantry full of food.  Seriously, I used to make fun of her because before she could leave the house she had to make sure the cushions on the couch were straight.  Contrast that with me - who's lucky if I remembered to turn the dishwasher on before going to bed.  Who's seriously lucky if I can go a week without the laundry monster taking over my house.  The kind who waits until about 5:30 to worry about what to eat and then opens up the empty pantry and announces it's cereal for dinner night!  And couch cushions?  They make GREAT trampolines on the floor for the Princesses.

Now, on most days, I'm very comfortable with my housekeeping skills.  No, my house is not spotless, there will always be a toy underfoot.  Often there are dirty dishes sitting in the sink.  And there is ALWAYS laundry to be done.  But for the most part, no one complains and I feel like I'm doing my best.  But when my mom comes to visit...  I dunno.  I know she's just trying to help.  But the first thing she does is inspect my refrigerator and pantry and make out a shopping list.  Then she tackles the laundry.  And it's not at all uncommon for her to begin reorganizing my tupperware drawer or my linen closet, just for kicks. 

Why does this make me feel so much like a failure as a homemaker?  I mean, I know my reality.   I have 3 small children.  I work part-time outside the home.   My husband is not a neat-freak and thus I have no pressure to keep a perfect house.  I don't need to hold myself to such high standards.  I am not my mom.  And I really don't think that my mom does these things to make me feel badly.  She's really doing it out of the goodness of her heart and because it's her gift.  I know I need to just get over myself.  Stop feeling sorry for myself.  Let my mom love on me this way and stop taking it so personally.