A Tragedy: Cleaning My House

This morning I hit the snooze button at 7am and woke up an hour later.  By the time I made it out to the goats it was 9am.  Late morning milk means late night milk, since twelve hours helps her refill.  My kids were still fighting fever.  Brett's broke around noon and Chloe's went up, but that didn't keep us from cleaning the bathroom together.  I have a friend coming to spend a week with us and I want to make sure my house is presentable.  More importantly, all school year I just shove stuff here and there, this is my opportunity to give everything a real home.  It also means I get to clean the play room out again.  If you recall the last time I did this was a few months ago and I likened it to a slow painful death.  I hate, more than anything, MESSES.  Sometimes when my children make messes and I am hormonal I can be found crying while telling them, "It is true, you DO hate me."

Today I found five pair of Brett's shoes spread throughout the house after I put him to bed.  Chloe's shoes are harder to recognize since we wear the same shoes and so either Chloe or I left four pair of shoes out.  I conquered the kid's bathroom today, spending time scrubbing the tile grout with a toothbrush, cleaning the baseboards, cleaning every square inch of the toilet, scouring the tub and shower, organizing the drawers and countertop, and pleading with Chloe to purge some of her junk.  I did find myself applying every cream, sniffing every fragrance, and lifting my eyebrow at the items she refused to throw away.  I didn't argue.  As a mom, we always get the last laugh when they leave and we throw the item away.  Sadly, the same happens to me.  My husband waits till I leave and purges my stuff.  I'm lucky to have him or I might be a hoarder.  Maybe.

the male model strikes again

After four hours of cleaning and organizing the bathroom, I headed to hell, I mean, the playroom.  I located every last Lego, that has not been sucked in to the vacuum, and found it a home in Brett's lego organizer that my mom got him for Christmas.  I then relocated the whole thing to his room.  I've considered lighting the room on fire, but it will cause smoke damage to the rest of the house and it is also currently the location where my incubator has found a home with my eight eggs cooking.

I will avoid the playroom tomorrow and tackle only one item in there before retreating to my bathroom to clean and organize all of the drawers and clean out my closet, again for the fifth time this year.  I have to remove winter stuff and then go through all the winter stuff I didn't use this year and decide if it needs a new home.  Tomorrow Chloe will be raising her eyebrow at me over the things I choose to keep and Thadd will later throw them away later.  I think I have makeup from before children.  I think I need to consider purging.  Ugh.

The chicken coop also needs to be cleaned.  With the babies coming soon and the black and white chicken with the broken wing and leg FINALLY having left this world to be reincarnate as a butterfly, I need to rake the ground and make sure it is clean and tidy for the baby chicks.  Speaking of dying chickens, earlier this week Chloe and I played chased the chicken with one of my young roosters.  He was refusing to go inside the coop at bedtime.  If you've never had chickens, they return to their roost in the evening slightly before dusk and start to quiet down.  This particular rooster was wound up.  After a long while of trying to catch him or coax him in to the coop, I gave up and said, "Fine!!  You are gonna get eaten you stupid rooster!"  More prophetic words have never been spoken.  We found the rooster headless in the morning and tossed him near our burn pile to be consumed by the buzzards.  I couldn't mourn the loss because of his stupidity.  Survival of the fittest.

I am thankful for the clean bathroom, as one clean room is better than no clean rooms(Day 151).  Goodnight Friends and if anyone knows of a good housekeeper, please let me know.