April 24, 2010
The Tasmanian Devil
Blane's Daisy troop braved the rain today and went "day camping." (So sorry I wasn't able to volunteer for that field trip!) Anyway, it was the perfect opportunity to tackle the mess in her bedroom. Why, oh why, was I only blessed with one neat freak like me - Keile? It's not fair. But off I marched to the trenches with two trash bags in hand.
When I opened the door, I felt like turning and running the other way. There's nothing worse to a neat freak than a room that looks like it's been hit by a tornado. Honestly, I don't understand how people live like that. I sucked it up and stepped into the mess. Where to start? I decided to tackle her stuffed animal corner first. Seriously, why were these things ever invented? I know some kids get hooked on a "special" one, but not Blane. She sleeps with a different fuzzy thing every night. And I swear they breed when we're not looking. There are so many of them! I told my mom and dad if they ever give us another one, I'll make sure they never see me or the kids again. They just laugh. Paybacks are hell, I assume they're thinking. I'll have the last laugh - I get to choose their nursing homes.
So, I finished and moved on to the closet - dress-up capital of Kansas. It's like Paris Hilton's closet - without the slut factor. And pompoms - really, this girl could outfit the Dallas Cowboys' cheerleaders. Isn't one pair enough? Tutus and purses and boas, oh, my! I finished the closet and started on the doll house and Barbies. By that time, I'd filled up the two trash bags, so I headed downstairs to get another. And Butterfly Barbie had it out for me. Have you ever stepped on a Barbie? Holy Mother! My foot still aches. Moving on, I made her bed and cleaned underneath it - aha, that's where I find half her winter clothes that she discarded instead of putting them in the laundry. Now I had to pull out those boxes again.
Finally, I was ready for her dresser. Really? All I can say is Tasmanian Devil. Every time she pulls out a shirt or a pair of underwear, the rest of the clothing panics and runs after it. Serious separation anxiety. So, I stacked everything up neatly again. Right. Like it's going to stay that way. I looked at the clock - wow, I'm good. It only took me an hour and three trash bags to defuse this bomb. And nearly cost me my sanity.
I heard the doorbell ring. One of the mom's crazy enough to volunteer for today's field trip is dropping Blane off. I'm trying to think who got the sh*% end of this stick - me or her. Blane ran upstairs and I heard her scream. She ran back down and threw her arms around me. "You're the best mommy in the whole world!" I think I got the good end.