It's peaceful. And yet, it's so not.
I can see approximately 3 plastic kid bowls strewn about the floor and 2 sippy cups filled with various liquid that I hope hasn't morphed into something chunky. I have no idea why they ALWAYS END UP ON THE FLOOR, but I'm certain it's just a cruel joke to irritate their mother. I see one of my earrings on the ground, my headband, one of the girls headbands, a leprechaun beanie baby (WHY????) , baby yogurt melts on the couch next to me, a half eaten peanut butter sandwich sitting on a paper towel in the kitchen, and a bag of presents for birthday parties this weekend slung over the banister. This is all within an eye-glance of where I am. Let's not even TALK about the other random areas. Like that wadded up toilet paper upstairs, because it's still usable, but Lucy insists on unrolling it every chance she gets. I mean--will I ever use that crumpled up wad? Probably not. But it feels wasteful to trash it.
And you guys. I'm not even a slob. I was thinking today that I really do feel like I can blame so much of it on my kids. I mean, not to be rude, but-----what the heck is with the mess??? I can even blame them for my laundry being strewn about. Because, while my husband may beg to differ, on the off chance my laundry does reach the basket, Lucy just thinks it's a fun game to throw it everywhere anyway. So why bother, right?
PLEASE TELL ME I AM NOT ALONE IN MY CHAOS.
I won't mention (okay I will) that I hit somebody's bumper yesterday on the way out of the farm. I haven't hit a car, in, um, EVER. I was kind of in a spazzy state of mind (stop laughing). This goat had just mauled my kid's hand against the fence, pinning his horn (WHAT THE HECK IS THAT THING CALLED???) against her. So I had to get her back to the car, first-aid her all up, and talk her down from the goat-tried-to-hurt-me-ledge. So my brain was all mush I guess, because as I'm reversing---BOOM. Actually. It wasn't even a boom. It was so small of a hit it felt like I hit a rock or something. Okay maybe a BOULDER. It was dumb.
The funny thing is, I got out, checked out their car and there wasn't even a scratch. Nada. STUPIDLY I didn't even check my own car (idiot) and went along my merry way thinking that since my car was the bigger one, surely it had to be fiiiiine.
So today I'm at the store picking up birthday presents, and I come out to my car, one kid strapped to my chest, the other in the death-grip-hand-hold, and I think, What the frack? Who's car is that with the huge dent in the bumper? Surely it's not mine.
KATIE YOU IDIOT, YOU DID THAT.
Then I began cry-texting my husband and sending him pictures--while he's all face-palming and rolling his eyes at me, probably semi-mad but totally hiding it.
Is it Friday yet? Who am I kidding...every day feels the same to me.
And to think, I still have a few minutes left of naptime to enjoy* alone. Marvelous.
*clean, cook, prep dinner, login to work email, do work, watch the kardashians (what? leave me alone.)