I’ve mentioned that my sister’s wedding is coming up, which, for me, means hosting a bunch of my favorite people in the world in the few days before and after. Unfortunately, my house looks like a disaster area that leaves much to be desired, especially for other people to see it. Even though I begged Grace to be well-behaved today (especially after her reign of terror yesterday), it hasn’t been going super well. Of course today would be the day that she sent her yogurt flying across the kitchen (accidentally), right after my biannual kitchen floor wipedown. In her defense, she did grab a washcloth to clean it up since I was tied up taking care of Sophie. She did a pretty good job, considering, but yogurt is the invisible ink of food and no matter how cleaned up you think it may be from various surfaces (skin, clothes, countertops, laminate wood floors) it will always reappear twenty minutes later. That said, I think I’ve got it cleaned up… but only time will tell.
I’ve been helping to coordinate guests and wedding details, along with trying to remember a million other things that need to get done or packed in the next few days. I’m not complaining about my stress level, because really, everyone is always stressed and nobody likes to hear about anyone else’s stress. I just handle life a bit better with more order than is in my life right now, and I have a feeling that my beloved to-do lists will get a good workout in the next 48-72 hours. If only I can get my house together a bit, I’ll be able to relax a bit and enjoy the time with family. If I can manage not to step on any Legos, well, that’s just icing on the cake.
Anyway, in my quest to declutter and clean, I keep finding more things that Grace has stashed in various places around the house, usually because she wants to hide her naughtiness from me. The TV remote was with my water bottle under a curtain behind a chair, a crucifix from a high shelf in her room was behind her rocker (which she scaled to get to said crucifix) and there are stickers everywhere, from Sophie’s bottles to any and all throw blankets and pillows in our living room. But, like she said, “At least I didn’t put soap in the Franklin book.” No, dear child, just in the library books. I’ve heard rumors about how germ-filled library books can be, but not anymore, thanks to the Webers and our anti-bacterial hand soap.
So if you need me, I’ll be washing towels, scrubbing floors, hoping library books aren’t ruined, hiding our junk, and trying not to let the bleach fumes go to my head. Happy Monday, all.