Happy With Myself?

Another day, another dollar. So the saying goes anyway. The boys are waiting patiently for me to start school and of course the laundry is all done and the beds are made and the dishwasher is loaded and the house is dusted, vacuumed, cloroxed, swept, mopped, and windexed. I am just applying a touch of lip gloss and straightening my skirt before the day begins. The children are wearing their freshly ironed polos and khakis and the baby is fresh-faced and clean. People ask me how I keep it together and I just gasp and say "I don't know what you mean!" Very modest. I do know that I have an edge and I just think that God made me this way! I'll just sigh a contented sigh and kiss my children.



Content. Hmmm... The boys ARE waiting for me to start school since I yelled up the stairs 15 minutes ago to come downstairs so that I can start school. The boys' beds are made (kind of, since they make them themselves) but mine is not. I actually cannot start school until my bed is made (also the bed must be made before people come over... I still have to close the door to my room because there is crap everywhere, but at least the bed is made - in case anybody sees it). OCD. The laundry is NEVER done and right now the load in the dryer smells like mildew because it sat in the dryer all night without me turning it on. This after I had to rewash it last night after I let it sit in the washer all day yesterday. Is the house ever really clean? I feel like I just kind of let it ride and bleach the sinks and windex the bathroom when someone comes over. Thank goodness people come over. I only dust when Josh Mitchell (husband of Paige- one of my links) comes over. Not sure why that is, except that he is very clean, but surely he doesn't notice the dust on the entertainment center (or does he? which is why I dust). I don't care if Paige sees that I don't dust. Wierd. I have to persuade the boys to MATCH their clothes and they hate polo shirts ("They're too dressy! Why are we dressing up?") and the baby will wear his pajamas until after he messes them up at lunch. He's just a little sticky. Currently I am sitting on the couch blogging in my now drying sweaty running clothes which I will wear until the baby goes down for his nap after lunch so I can take a shower in peace (he likes to open the shower curtain while I'm showering and play peek-a-boo and ask "wat dat, mama?"). The cushions are out of place on the sofa, K'nex are everywhere, my breath is RANK and now I'm ready to start the day. Right after I make my bed. After all, what if somebody comes over?