The cartoon guy. I always remember the little guy sitting at his desk at work, buried under an overflowing inbox and a puny little pile of stuff he managed to get into his outbox.
I feel like Ziggy.
Between laundry, cleaning the house, feeding Georgia, potty training with Mitchell, cooking and dishes, pumping milk, cleaning that/bottles, and getting the three of us cleaned up and bathed every day -- I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle.
As soon as I clean something, all I have to do is turn around or blink and it's nasty again. I just did a mountain of laundry last week and I already have 3 loads waiting on me again. The floors are disgusting. I need to vacuum. Again. I still have to figure out when I can clean up Georgia's closet and our closet. Forget about some serious cleaning -- I'm convinced it's just NOT going to happen.
I'm sure this is how I'll feel till the end of having kids at home -- so maybe I should be thankful that this is the situation. It means I have a family to love and keep up with and that the house isn't going anywhere. I can take messy, I just can't take filthy. I guess I'll live with clutter and fight the dirt. My kids and my husband are more important -- I'm sure I'll get over it, it just feels overwhelming most days.
I'm torn about whether a bigger house would make it worse or better -- more house to clean, but more space to put stuff. That feels like half our problem -- no room for anything. Anyway -- that was my thought for the day.
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