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My desire to enjoy the little moments is paying off big time.  Although I will admit it’s been hard and I’ve had to make a conscious effort more then once to do it.

My husband is the most anal retentive person when it comes to his work space that ever lived.  Seriously.  It’s insane.  Quite possibly borderline obsessive.  Everything has a place, everything is color coded, nothing is out of place in the least.  Even his papers are perfectly square and straight.  He is the exact opposite at home.  How is this possible?  I’m not kidding, I don’t think one thing he touches at home gets put back into it’s proper spot.  His work clothes get put away and that’s it.  Everything else is left out on the floor.  His clean laundry is stacked on the hope chest for weeks before it’s put away.  He no longer even puts away his toiletry items from the bathroom.  He leaves them out.  I’m so sick of this and I REFUSE to put it away.  I clean around it.  No joke.  I vacuum around his pile of crap on the floor.  I wipe down the bathroom counter but only lift his stuff out of the way and put it exactly where he left it.   It’s a rare occasion that he puts his dishes in the dishwasher but I can’t leave that out.  I’m tempted though.  Damn does it annoy me.  But it doesn’t bother him in the least. I really don’t get it.  He constantly leaves his drinks/cups whatever in my car.  I hate it.  So I’ve started to do the same to him to see if he gets it.  I’ve asked countless times for him to only put his stuff away; I’ll do everyone else’s.  But he thinks my job as a stay-at-home mom/wife should include this stuff.  I’m sorry, but I’m not your damn maid.  And just because I stay home part-time doesn’t give you an excuse to be a slob.

So the other day I’m trying to get the house cleaned up because we were having a party the next day.  He made it clear that he was going to be working all weekend and did not have time to watch kids while I tried to clean the house.  OK, fine.  We wake up in the morning, I made a huge breakfast since that’s what we always do on the weekend because it’s sometimes our only real family meal.  After he’s done, he leaves the table and I find him sitting in the living room nose buried in the Kindle.  Again.  The house is trashed, dishes everywhere, kids are full of maple syrup, and they are so eager to spend time with him.  His nose still buried.  I get all the dishes put away and food put away.  I change the kids.  His nose still buried.  They wanted to play.  I REALLY needed to get this done as it was my only time to do it. The second the kids surround him with play time requests he says he’s going to work, he’ll be back at agreed upon time that evening and exits stage left.  WTF.  He has time to read for an hour but not time to play with the kids or even help get things cleaned up?  Damn it!  The kids are now running around crazy but playing nice.  I manage to vacuum most the house and dust the important items.  Just when I see a light at the end of the tunnel…. the little dude scatters every diaper known to mankind around the house.  Apparently while I was listening to him count in the other room, he was counting the diapers he was going to throw around, not blocks like I originally thought.  Damn it!!  I busted out the loudest version of Johnny Appleseed anyone has ever heard to remind me that it really wasn’t so bad.  The kids all stopped in their tracks, asked what was wrong with Mommy and then continued on their crazy mission to trash the house once again.

This was one of my times where I needed to make a conscious effort to embrace the chaos.  It worked.  After singing a verse of that ridiculous children’s song, I settled down and proceeded to laugh at the fact that if anyone thought my house was going to be even close to clean…. well….. they probably don’t have kids nor do they know that I get 0, zero, zip, zilch help around this place and we are all happy that it’s semi clean most of the time and we are all fine, dandy and healthy.  To that I say… Amen.. Amen..Amen, Amen, Amen.Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaamen.