Tuesday, September 24, 2013


I wanted babies. I always wanted babies. I wanted seven babies who would sing with me like Maria VonTrapp, and I wanted to spend my days playing and dancing and caring for my babies.

I wanted sweet baby clothes that gave way to tennis shoes and blue jeans.  I wanted monster truck toys and baby dolls, and I didn't care who played with which.  I wanted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with goldfish crackers.  I wanted hugs and kisses, and little arms around my neck with little voices that said, "I love you".

I wanted books and drawings.  I wanted water color paintings of sunshine and flowers.  I wanted notebooks holding girly secrets.  And little books full of secret codes for playing spy.

I wanted all of these things and so much more.  It's why I wanted kids.  But let me tell you what I didn't expect:

  1. Dried up bowls of cereal hiding under beds.
  2. clothes stuffed into every available nook and cranny, because the laundry shoot that is less than five steps from any of their rooms, is just too gosh darned far away.  
  3. Shoes behind my couch.  I'm not even sure whose.
  4. Toys everywhere from under their beds, to under mine.  Just not in the toy boxes, because that would be crazy.
  5. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches...under a couch cushion.
  6. Snack trash, under their pillows.
  7. Books in every room of the house, but rarely on the bookshelves where they belong.
  8. Drawings and paintings that can't be thrown away, but can't be kept anywhere organized, either.
  9. Dishes....behind the dresser in their room.
  10. Toast, behind the toilet.  Because...why?  I don't know.  Just because.
  11. Bedding that starts to smell like stinky butt cheese because the kids don't want to shower.
I wanted so much to have children.  And I will admit that, despite the many hours spent caring for other people's kids before I had my own, I had NO idea how truly gross they could be.

I cleaned out my daughters' room in frustration today.  I didn't look in their closet.  I need a drink before I tackle that challenge.  Who wants to bring me some Moscato? 



  1. I feel your pain. I recently cleaned my sons' closet. Did you know that given an average temperature of 81 degrees and three months, a pb&j sandwich turns to grey liquid?

    1. Eeew. I totally believe you, and I'm so sorry!

  2. Some days I wish there was a device that would give them a mild zap if they walked into their rooms with any sort of food. =/ Double for the dogs. Tova (I think) keeps finding food in his reach and ripping it apart to eat it....on my bedroom floor. Moscato sounds great! I hope you get some before the closet! <3

    1. That device could make you millions, Sonya! You and I. Moscato. It's a must.

  3. Dear lady, I'm happier than I can express to have found your blog! Another Pagan family of 9!! Okay, had my mo, lol

    I can relate to this post on every level. Mine are getting better at tossing things into the bin (the 18-month old stunned me by throwing away a piece of trash she found yesterday), but it's like where is the logic kids have when it comes to the levels of gross, am I right?


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