This morning I woke resolving to take back my home. I would recover my kitchen. I would. I would take it back from the overwhelming disarray that composes it.
I stayed home all morning and worked on it. I worked all of Charming's nap. Yes, the dishes were all done...for about three seconds...until someone asked for food. And, ok, part of taking back my kitchen was taking back my pantry so I made a big pot of spaghetti sauce to use up a pile of tomatoes on my counter. Which means my counter was covered in tomato sauce all afternoon. I worked on the paper that finds itself a home on my "ledge" over the stove. But I did not take down the mountain.
Then I took the kids to the pool. Hey, it's the last week of summer. And we are supposed to have storms all week. And I didn't want to waste what may be the last nice afternoon.
I forgot to mention that my day started at 5 AM. And not the kind of start that includes a quiet time while the rest of my family slept. No, more like the kind that I fight and fight and finally give up around 6:15.
When Hubs got home, I expressed frustration that I had ONE goal today and that was to take back my home (beginning with the kitchen). You know what he said?
"You did a nice job on the bedroom."
Yeah. That. Eldest made my bed and threw the dirty clothes in the hamper while I took a shower this morning. To surprise me.
Shhhh, don't tell.