Jeff often asks what the $%** it is that I do all day. I try to explain to him that all I do is watch the children, prepare all their meals from scratch, chauffer them around, and then, when that is all done, I go to work. I generally get up at 5 a.m. and get home about 10:30 p.m. IT's usually about midnight before I get to bed. On a good night, I am home by 8 p.m. I don't know why it is that I don't really seem to get much done around the house. Jeff gets upset with me because I get so behind on the laundry and dishes during the week. He feels that he spends the weekends catching up on all I haven't done during the week. As much as I hate to admit it, he is right. I am a horrible house keeper. But, I do feel I have an excuse. My kids do not appreciate it when Mommy does not give them 110% of her undivided attention. They grow little horns and tails when I am trying to do something else. About two weeks ago, Jeff was home from work. He was outside trying to hang Christmas lights. I had the kids inside, and I decided to try and get through the mound of laundry.
I went in the laundry room and started the washer. I threw a few things in the washer, and then went upstairs to gather some more clothes. I came back downstairs, and put the clothes in the washer. And, this is what was waiting for me when I returned to the room where my little angels were playing....
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