Tuesday, December 02, 2008

Mad Skillz

You know, us mos have some mad skills. For example, did you know that I am the only person (who lives in this house at least) who is capable of removing the toilet paper from it's plastic and putting it into the cabinet beneath the sink? That's a mad skill. And it's exclusively mine. I am also the only one who can carry recycleables to the recycle bin. And the only one who knows how to make the bed or fold a blanket. Today, my awesome-ness overwhelms me.

Actually, what overwhelmed me (I am sitting here recovering) is the fact that my new cleaning lady who I *adore* called like 1o minutes ago to tell me that she will have to clean tomorrow (which I am TOTALLY unprepared for) and that after that she will no longer be able to clean anymore because she has family obligations and it just is too much for her to clean one more place. I can't say I was totally unprepared for that, because honestly I thought perhaps that could happen. Every good thing that seems too good to be true, usually is. So the search for cleaning people continues. It's silly. So while my agenda for today consisted of sewing a diaper, troubleshooting my serger angst, reading a new kids magazine that came, getting cleaned up for my meeting tonight, making a quick list of grocery stuff, taking care of Ardyn, cleaning the kitchen, running the dishwasher, and continuing with laundry.... it has now vastly expanded to picking up the entire house, finding an emergency babysitter for tonight so I can still attend my meeting, finding a home for the totes of clothes and diapers that I have been sorting through, putting away the freaking toilet paper and the clean laundry that is piling up on the couch, taking care of Ardyn, and hoping that I get a shower before my meeting tonight. UGH. This sucks.

More later. I can't sit here for long or my head will explode with the things I should be doing.

Okay. one more room picked up. I don't even know why I bother. I know that Ardyn has 24 hours to destroy everything again. I feel guilty for thinking it, but I am seriously considering confining her to the playroom/bedroom during the day because it would seriously cut down on the strewn-aboutedness that happens when she has nearly the run of the house. I have already made the bathroom and our bedroom off limits, because it was incredibly frustrating to have nothing be sacred. And now her nursery is off limits too because every time she goes in there she attempts to unload all the dresser and armoire drawers, and all the cloth diapers, and all the blankets, and unfold all the laundry, and drag it about the house while squealing and waving it like a flag or dragging it across the floor. If she's in the kitchen she will take every tupperware out of the cabinet, every magnet off the fridge, and get into the garbage and the pantry a bazillion times a day. So I have been shutting that door too. So basically right now I am limiting her to living room, dining room, and her big girl room. But when accompanied she goes into all the other rooms no problem. But at the end of the day when everything is not in the room it started in, it makes picking up that much more exhausting. In order to pick anything up, I have to put something enthralling on the TV, like Little Einsteins or Blues Clues. Otherwise she will jsut follow right behind me and literally trash and undo everything i put away. She gets this mentality like "I wasn't DONE with that" and she just starts tearing things off shelves.

Be right back. Going to clean another room.

Okay. It's especially difficult when you can't find two shoes (that match) to put on your own two feet because one is under the couch and the otheris under the dining room table, or on the front porch, or 3 feet under the kitchen hutch in complete and total darkness. Every crevice, crack, and space in this house is now filled with something that does not belong there. It drives me nuts, because it makes me look like the unorganized fool when we get ready to go and Ardyn is all perfectly dressed and packed, and I can't find my coat, purse, or matching shoes. It looks like MY fault.

And today I called Evan at work and Ardyn had once again broken into the bathroom (one door won't latch) and was busily shredding a roll of toilet paper and trying to get past the toilet lock, and I went in and asked her to leave (which of course she ignored because that's her mood today) and then I picked her up to remove her myself and got promptly slapped in the face (another new thing that she goes through on bad days) and when I told her no hitting mommy and that if she keeps it up she will be spending some time in her crib.... Evan says "don't yell at her" and I wanted to reach through the phone and slap HIM. I said "Don't yell at her? She just slapped me in the face!" (and for the record I did not yell. I used a firm voice and warned her of the consequences, which to him is "mean.") But I know that when she slaps me, and gets warned and does it again, that putting her in her crib for about 5-10 minutes alone in her room, fixes it instantly, and she will even say sorry and kiss me when I go back in to get me. And after doing that has never once hit me again in the same day, or even in the next day. She remembers. And once I feel like she is old enough (soon!) she won't get that one warning hit because she knows better. And she is *almost* there.

Right now she is going down for a nap because she hasn't had one and because she is getting increasingly onery. I said "Do you want to take a nap now?" and she walked through the kitchen, dining room, big girl room, and went right to the door of the nursery. I opened the door and she walked right over to her crib. Poor kid is tired. LOL.

So now I will take this time to get a shower for myself before she wakes up and before my sister gets here to babysit. Whew. In the end, it all seems to work out. God grant me the sanity to keep my cool when I go dish fridge magnets out of the bathtub and get my Pampered Chef Baker's Roller out from under her crib. And also give me the strength to fold and hang my husband's clean laundry without wiping my butt with it first. Or something. Like that.

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