Ignore the mess

I seriously think my mother is a superhero or has at least consumed enough coffee that it races through her veins giving off nonstop energy and motivation. Growing up our house was always tidy. Yes, messes were made, but they were always clean by the time we woke up in the morning. My mother raised three kids, would spend the day caring for those not in school, helping with home, working in the afternoon, making dinner in the evening, then spend her nights, after everyone was sleeping, cleaning her house. Before Abby, I barely had enough energy to put dishes in the dishwasher after working all day. And now – let’s just say Abby is lucky I wash her bottles. It’s a good day if I’m able to fold the laundry within the week I actually do it (and bonus points if I remember to switch laundry from the washer to the drier within the same day).
Here are some things you’ll notice when you visit:

  • Clean laundry in the dryer because when you attempt to fold laundry with a baby on the brink of crawling, a dog whose mission is to chase the cat no matter what is in her path (including a freshly folded tower of towels), and a cat who has decided that every clean pile of baby clothes is now her new bed, you learn quickly that it’s just not worth the effort.
  • Dirty dishes in the sink  (but no bottles because I’ve learned from experience when you have to wash a bottle when a baby is hangry all is lost). Plus, I just really hate washing dishes.
  • Baby bibs stuffed in every corner of the house, including couch cushions, on top of the cat tree, and hanging off every cabinet knob because baby’s are gross and bibs are needed constantly.
  • Mashed green beans, pumpkin, sweet potatoes or any other food like substance in my baby’s ear, on my own forehead, and on the leg of the table because, as mentioned previously, baby’s are gross, and there probably wasn’t a bib close enough.
  • Baby socks in random nooks and crannies, like kitchen drawers, by the cat dish (possibly in the dog water bowl), and in the bathtub because baby socks have a mind of their own and are out to get you. Those little jerks come off for no reason and when you have animals, anything that falls to the ground is fair game.
  • Not a single made bed because, well, that one is basically because I’m lazy. If you ever come over and my bed is actually made, it means you are highly important and I’m doing whatever possible to impress you, or I recently changed the sheets.
  • A smiling baby (unless she’s hungry, then she’s the devil), an energetic pup that wants you to pet her for the rest of your life, and an uncoordinated cat who will, at some point, run into a wall or get trapped behind a baby gate because she forgets she’s a cat and could simply jump over it.

In truth, I’d rather spend anytime I should be cleaning, snuggling or playing with Abby. And if she’s sleeping for the night, and the house is finally quiet, perhaps I should take the time and effort to clean the house and be a responsible adult. I could finish the laundry, wash the dishes, tidy the living spaces, and all other responsible adult chores.  OR, I could pour a glass of wine and sit on the couch with John. That sounds more fun.

PS – And if you were wondering, yes those are my socks on Abby’s feet in the featured photo because when I do get around to folding laundry, it’s more fun to put adult clothing on the baby and see her reactions than to continue folding. And then that is typically followed with putting baby clothes on the cat. That may also be a reason the laundry is never folded. 

 

 

Cat and bib