I am exhausted and cranky tonight, yet I have set goals for myself this week and I feel the need to start this up. For the one-hundred-thousandth time. Whatever.
Today I had great plans to finish laundry and actually clean MY house. I have taken up a little side work cleaning houses and it makes me so sad when I walk into my house and there is toothpaste smeared all over the bathroom sink. And toilet. And ceiling.
So sad may be an exaggeration. So sad would imply a call to action — actually removing the almost smiley face design of toothpaste that I am slightly amazed was just flung up there. How did they get it so precise?
ceiling toothpaste art
But it has been there at least a month, if not longer. Again, whatever.
I’m sure you can guess that my house was not cleaned today. Instead, I had a Caleb and Corinn day, and it was magnificent. We went for a walk. We threw bombs (rocks) at enemies (nobody else was there otherwise I would not have let him throw rocks. Promise.). We played kickball. We napped together. We picked up the other boys and went to yet another park, got slushies at Sonic, and ate pizza for dinner. It was fun!
second park awesomeness
Way more fun than cleaning or laundry. After all, everyone has clean underwear and socks. Laundry schmlaundry.
Sometimes it is necessary to clean and run around doing errands. Today, it wasn’t. Today I needed to enjoy every minute of my time with that precious three year old. He is the last one. Never again will I get to do this. While that is a very good thing, it also breaks my heart. I am not sure what to do without littles running around all full of energy and light sabers and Lego guys and stuffed security items. I kind of love it.
But this isn’t going to be one of those depressing, no more babies, go in the garage and turn on the car kind of blogs. It’s just a reminder to sometimes let your plans for the day be set aside. That is hard for me. I like to do things in a certain way, according to a checklist in my head, and then sit back and relax in all I have accomplished that day.
I usually do that, but I don’t remember those days. And neither do my kids. They remember the time I spent with them – playing, pretending and throwing rocks at emenies (Evan-speak for enemies).