I set my alarm with capability to snooze at least 3 times. For example, I need to wake up no later than 6:00 a.m. I set my alarm for 5:45 so I can begin to wake myself up. I cannot just get up the first time, I have to "psych" myself out into thinking I am getting an extra 15 minutes before I can actually get out of bed. This drives my husband bananas because he just sets his mental clock for 6:00 and wakes up. Seriously, he says, "okay brain, wake me up at 6" and sure enough he's up at 6 a.m. on the dot. Freak. :)
Once I've managed to convince myself that getting up is necessary, I will stumble to kitchen to get some coffee. Hopefully, I would have remembered to set the coffee the night before or that my husband would have made it already because waiting is not something I know how to do. I can't stand to wait. I'm a "hurry up, let's go" kinda girl. I will stare at the pot and chant, "Open. Open. Open" like that old Mervyns commercial. The only thing that seems to keep me calm while I wait is my boyfriend, aka phone. I can scroll through Facebook and see what kind of drama I missed or who had what for breakfast. I can even see who I can be annoyed with. You know that person that has already managed to run 5 miles and burn a butt-load of calories before I've even had a chance to brush my teeth. Jerks. How dare they take care of themselves? :)
I woke up this morning and didn't know what day it was. I was completely discombobulated. (Sigh. I love that word.)
This weekend was the perfect combo of crazy. My husband was busy working on his vehicle, helping his dad with all the work on his property, swimming with my daughter and nephew, breakfast with my parents, grocery shopping, helping my aunt and uncle move from one home to another and still trying to maintain a semi clean house. I wish I could just "ah-ah-ah-ah-ah" my way to a clean home like Giselle from Enchanted. If I were to try it my neighbors would probably just yell, "SHUT UP" and I'd still have the housework to do. The only thing I have in common with Giselle is all the chores that need to be done. Disney, why do you make it look easier than it really is?
Along with the chores I have to do, I'm dealing with 9 year old drama...again. She's going nuts over having to clean her room. I don't think picking up after yourself is that much to ask? I now get why my mother was so annoyed that I just shoved everything in the hamper. It's because SHE had to wash it. I'm not going to wash the same clothes she hasn't worn again this week just because she didn't put them away. She's going to have to do it herself. I had my daughter sort her clothes and start the washing machine. Now she's the one that is annoyed. Annoyed at all the stuff that she has in her room and I'm annoyed that I bought her half that shit. My daughter is so artsy fartsy that she has more paint and craft crap than she knows what to do with. It's every where. In nooks and crannies, drawers, in boxes and containers. She has a large cookie jar full of sparkles, rows of glitter, chalk, crayons, pencils, paper, you name it. I should put a sign on her door that says, "Hobby Lobby." It's ridiculous. She's even taken over my former office/closet/laundry room. I feel like I owe my mother an apology for my room growing up but I know she's secretly paying me back by keeping stuff she doesn't need that I will eventually have to go through when she's gone. Well played, mother. Well played.
Enough with the rambling thoughts and complaining about stuff that has to get done. I feel semi-caffeinated enough to get up and see if my daughter is actually cleaning her room or just sitting there watching TV. Quiet kids are dangerous. I hope you all had a wonderfully, crazy weekend and are ready for another great week. Let's do this.
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