That's Not Success I'm Smelling

I'm busy and distracted. So what's new right?

I find myself on auto-pilot most of the time.

Like last night when I was meticulously lining the toilet seat with squares of toilet tissue...
and then remembered I was in my own home...


and then remembered there's a lot of cavemen sharing this home,
so I continued to line the seat. Just in case.

****

Today Miss Ky was on the sofa. I told her, "I'm finally finished, so now I can sit down and love on my baby girl!"

"Smell my feet."

"Uh... no thanks."
She's obsessed with the olfactory senses lately. She asked us earlier this week to smell her breath, "It smells like water!"

Thursdays are always fun since Hubby does Young Men's on the
Thursday nights he's not at work and one kid plays football.

I'm the one who will stand in the cold, stomping my feet and wiggling my fingers to keep frostbite at bay with three other children who won't bathe or eat until after 8.00pm.

A day (ab)normally packed and long, last Thursday started with a morning meeting that lasted three hours.

It might not have gone so long if Miss Ky hadn't locked the bathroom door with a latch that was too stiff for her to unlatch so that we had to extricate her from the window.
Thank goodness she was able to reach up and undo the window latch.

The very nice couple told me not to worry, they had another bathroom upstairs and would have someone sort the downstairs one later.
Unfortunately later wouldn't work when my secretary, who is in a wheelchair, needed to use the bathroom.
So, we took the skinniest of us (so not me) and hoisted her into the tiny window where she was forced to bend her legs in some very unnatural ways to get in.


What I learned this week besides that losing weight and being more flexible could be a bonus:

In my friend's bathroom there were things on the floor.
Rolled nappies, clothes, towels, shampoo bottles and such. Her shower had hard water stains and various colours of mold and mildew growing on the tile. Her laundry room cup runneth over, her kitchen counters are under siege by the Tupperware army.
In general, everywhere but the dining table and living room are well lived in. Her cleaning time is instead spent serving people and relishing time with her two kids.

My envy is eating me alive.

I dream of leaving the house with a sink of dishes and NOT stressing about it.

I want to sit on the floor with my kids and not be focused on the legos I can see under the sofa or the pair of underpants still tangled in pajama bottoms dangling from the book shelf where they landed this morning..

I want to take a shower breathing in the crisp scent of tea tree oil (I know, yuck) and let my eyes sachet in an ultra-relaxed manner observing the light of the morning sun dancing on the glass--instead of the military-style tile inspection I usually do.

Does anyone else clean the grout while they're showering?

You'd think with my attitude my house sparkles. But it doesn't. I did just tell you that I felt the need to line my own toilet seat.

So my need to know question for today is: Which person are you?

The uptight woman with the unoccupied show house that lifts her guests feet to vacuum?
Or are you the lady that Kim and Aggie throw in the towel and say there is no help for you?



Can you smell that?

It's the smell of a woman defeated by perfectionism...

or it could be some left over water, I haven't quite mastered Miss Ky's abilities.



IMPORTANT NOTE: While uploading this post, I heard the refrigerator door open.
By the child who was supposed to be napping (thanks for nothing Dora).
I found her mesmerized by the string of goo dripping from her fingers. The other hand was still holding open the egg carton. Apparently she didn't eat enough hard boiled eggs a couple of weeks ago... I guess now is as good of time as any to clean the refrigerator...