Did you ever just look around your home and wonder how in the world it became such a disaster area? We've been really busy this week. Mr. Schmitty is working all weekend. That leaves me and my brood, plus friends.
I just looked out the front window, the back door, and around the main floor of my house. We have a split and the main floor consists of an open floor plan of a living room, dining room, and kitchen. I had to sit down because I am just completely overwhelmed and have no idea where to start first.
So instead, I'll blog and complain about it to all of my bloggy friends. This is what I see:
The back yard; Grass that comes up to R.'s ankles. I should strike the grass because our grass is made up mostly of clover right now. I hate putting chemicals on the lawn because of the kids and our dog. There are a gazillion toys strewn all over. The shed door is open. The umbrella on the patio table is half open. The swing set, that my kids have completely outgrown, is actually bent from the rust. The rust and the monsters I am raising. And don't get me started on the landmines of dog poop.
The front yard; Grass is cut, because I am a wonderful mom and my kids wanted to use their slip and slide. As I said the yard is full of clover. That means bees. Did you hear that? That was the high-pitched, girly scream of a ten year old boy. Anyway, the front yard is smaller, so I cut it, in this AWFUL heat, this morning. My head actually had a heartbeat by the time I was done. So where was I? Oh yea, the slip and slide with 8 rafts. A kiddie pool in the driveway with at least a dozen, newly coiffed, Nekid dolls thrown all over the ground. Shoes, swim shirts, towels are everywhere. There are mounds of wet grass on EVERYTHING because I refused to use the blower after I cut the lawn. I mean c'mon I can't do it ALL!
The main floor of the house: Paper plates with crusts of sandwiches, half drunk glasses of chocolate milk, and browning apple pieces on the dining room table. Enough for 5 children. Sunblock, iPods, Gameboys, and Bakugan's on every inch of available counter tops and tabletops. A sink full of dishes. An overflowing garbage can. Playdoh.
And I haven't even seen the rest of the house in a while so I don't know how that's looking. Right now I don't want to know, I don't think my heart could handle it.
I would so post pictures for you all but 1. I'd be afraid someone would recognize the place and call the authorities to condemn my house and 2. I can't find my camera in the heap of crap.
Can someone tell me why I keep hearing the theme song to Sandford and Son in my throbbing head.