Pardon The Rant, But...

Mommy needs a mental break.

I just don't understand how the house can get messy so quickly.  After I've spent the day cleaning it and making it somewhat livable again.  Then everyone comes home and 30 seconds later, the protein powder is in the living room, the tupperware is in the bathroom, the banana is in the dishwasher and the mousse is in the kitchen... all thanks to a curious and "helpful" toddler.  Then there are the pee-pee diapers that we've changed and are folded up, yet we just haven't quite gotten to throwing away (yea... we're gross.  deal with it.)  And the pile of shoes at the front door?  I wanna scream.

I think the biggest issue is that the living room is so damn cluttered with kid stuff.  At all times.  Stuff that you can't put away.  Like the swing for Millie.  The gym for Millie.  The art table for Hazel.  Hazel's rocking chair.  All of Hazel's toys that are stored in the bottom of our bookcases... it just looks cluttered. I love it... because it's a sign that a family lives here.  But... sometimes it feels clastrophobic.

And, when you add even one more item to the general living area?  Chaos.

I had to leave Millie with Benny tonight just so I could go to the local coffee shop to blog and not feel anxiety about the clutter and mess that I need to clean up before I can relax.  And I realize that I'm just as much to blame about this.  Good grief... if you people could see the bedroom . The piles and piles of laundry that have been done and folded... but I just haven't managed to get them on hangers or in drawers.  Because I feel like ALL I'm doing is cleaning and picking up the house and doing laundry and cooking... so, you know what?  SCREW the bedroom.  I just go in there to sleep, so I can close the door on it and pretend that it doesn't exist.  At least until bedtime.  And then I just push things to the side to create a path to and from my side of the bed so that when Millie's 3:30 a.m. feeding comes, I don't trip over a pair of my maternity underwear that I want to pretend don't still fit me.

I'm worried that Hazel is going to see this behavior and think that it's acceptable and then we're gonna have a problem down the line.  But... at this point in my life as a Mommy?  SCREW IT.

So, here I sit in the coffee shop listening to a couple on a blind date talking about their DUI's and how she got hooked on heroine in high school, while he talks about how great his cat is.  No joke.  I look forward to their next smoke break just so I can focus on the quiet.

Because that's one thing that's missing in my life right now.

Quiet.