I'd like to consider myself fairly organized. I color code the main events in my life, keep my undies all in the same drawer, and love, love, love, love, LOVE to make lists (color-coded, naturally). That being said, I truly thought that I was well-prepared, well-organized for the arrival of Baby B. The boxes of diapers were stacked according to size in the back of the closet. His clothes were rinsed in hypo-allergenic, dye-free, super-dee-duper detergent and then folded neatly in his drawers. Various baby gear was stashed appropriately throughout the house awaiting the appropriate month to resurface (oh, how I can't wait to use that cowmooflage carseat!!!). The fridge was stocked, the cabinets organized, and not a fleck of dust speckled the furniture.
Then, Baby B was born. And eight weeks later - BAM! - my life has thrown up all over my house.
I would be embarrassed for you to stop by right now to visit. In fact, I probably wouldn't even let you in. I'd - cough, cough - fake illness and warn you that we'd all been quarantined within its confines until the haz-mat team could render services to our kitchen and bathroom. That you probably shouldn't step foot onto the second floor for fear that the clothes-quicksand that blankets our floor (to the point that I wonder if we still have actual carpet beneath or if either one of us has lacked for clean undies in the past eight weeks) might swallow you whole, or at least trip you as you stumble to the bathroom after a 3am feeding.
Then there's the library book situation. Um, remember those books I mentioned that needed returning, oh, well, I guess it was seven weeks ago??? Yup, not returned yet. Still sitting in stacks beneath the coffee table. Even after the libary has issued multiple notices (I think the last count was seven), threatened to confiscate my first-born, and pay the $997.62 I owe in late fees. Should I just consider them mine at this point? Sigh.
It doesn't help that I became employed two weeks ago either. So now, masses of school work are piled haphazardly throughout the entire first floor practically over-taking the kitchen table. Who am I kidding? It's not like we've eaten a meal at that table in the past eight weeks anyway. Rather impressively balanced a slice of pizza in one hand and a bubbly baby boy in the other instead.
Seriously, from the spot on the couch I've managed to clear where I currently sit, I can see a bottle of Tide, a pack-n-play padded sheet, coupons, an un-opened bottle drying rack, the carseat, Windex laying sideways on the rug, various receipts, the diaperbag, the boppy, un-opened mail, heaps of blankets, and the daunting dining room where I cannot even begin to describe what I see. Let's just say I haven't had the chance to properly put away the remnants of a weekend trip to TN.
Alas, the boy child is currently sleeping. And while I should be cleaning, I am blogging. I only take solace in the fact that my lesson plans are up-to-date and that B will be home in t-minus 3 hours to assist in home-management duties - even if that means snoozing with Baby B for a couple of hours.
Well, I guess I should go get crack-a-lackin' on this disaster we call a house... oh, who am I kidding? I'm off to Starbucks to take advantage of the free smoothies on Tuesday between 2-4pm. Then, maybe once I'm armed with an energy-boosting chocolate banana Vivanno, I'll be able to take on this beast.