I spent a major chunk of my day yesterday cleaning. I effing hate cleaning….which probably is the reason that when I do finally do it, it takes forever because there is so much of it. I know it’s a problem, and my own fault. As I type this, I have a sink full of dishes needing some serious attention. My life is filled with poop, piss, vomit, dishes, and laundry, milk, and other various spills (whine bitch moan). Today was the second time I found out our cat, Luna, pooped in Malfoy’s bed. Not to mention the nice hairball on the floor. Wtf? What I really don’t get is I SAW her pee in the litter box this morning…..but she saved her shit for my kid’s bed? The first time, we thought it was because our other kitty, Meka, harasses her, etc, and kind of forced Luna to stay in the boy’s room. However, this morning Meka had been locked up in our bedroom, meaning Luna had free reign of the rest of the house….. so…..?
Anyway, back to the furless animals that run amok in our apartment. So, I am kind of a crazy person, and even though I am not the most domesticated of housewives /stay-at-home moms, when I do clean up, I really like for things to have their own “home” so-to-speak. Having small children makes cleaning both necessary, and pointless, so this is very difficult and since I must force myself to do this as it is, I end up really angry and frustrated. While I clean one room, they are in another room jumping on furniture, killing each other, etc. This means I must stop what I am doing approximately every 2 minutes to say “STOP IT! CAN’T YOU BOYS JUST BEHAVE FOR A LITTLE WHILE?!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” ….See? Crazy person. Be glad I’m not your mom.
I have a “filing” system. It consists of gallon size ziplock bags, and a sharpie to write on the label; discarded Folgers and Maxwell House coffee containers; baby wipes containers, and whatever other containers or bags that can be put to use. I just need to throw some of this crap away, but I am a pack rat, and I know that as soon as I get rid of whatever random toy they don’t play with, they will ask for it, and I am a bad liar (which doesn’t mean I don’t try to lie, but it’s really stupid). I’m afraid of their little broken hearts. I know it will happen because neither of them have a specific lovey. They always ask for the most random toy at the most annoying time, and it’s usually a toy I haven’t seen in months (it’s probably just under / behind a couch or their bed and I do not feel like hunting, as I know they will play with it for five minutes, en ask for another random stupid toy). I try to coax them into searching for it, but of course all I get in return is either “I don’t KNOW where it is!” or “No, YOU look for it, Mommy!” As you can guess, I really *love* hearing this, and it does not frustrate me *at all*.
…………Aaaand, I just heard Malfoy dump the big bag of blocks / ball pit balls onto his bedroom floor. Of course. I refuse to get up and investigate at the moment as it will just irritate me. Also, I should be focusing on getting my ass out the door to pick up Weasley from pre-k. **looks at the clock and rationalizes that she doesn’t have to really leave for five more minutes** But first! What Malfoy just said / did.
**Malfoy emerges from his room carrying his mega blocks stacked together like a tower or sword or what have you**
Malfoy: “It’s my dornd! It’s for tutting amimals!”
**Mommy giggles** “Oh, yeah? It’s your sword for cutting animals?”
Malfoy: “Yeahh!” **smiles, pleased with himself**
I have no idea where he got this, but his mispronunciations a adorable to me. Seriously, “amimal”, have you heard anything cuter?