A Big A** Mess

It's rainy today and we all slept in, late, very, very late. Feeling guilty as other people's children were staying here as well, I decided to make a nice breakfast. Now, I don't like to cook, but breakfast now that's my specialty. Only problem was we were limited on clean dishes since we had run out of dishwasher detergent and dish soap two days ago. "No problem, I'll just use little plates and pull out some pots and pans we don't usually use."

Breakfast was good.

Still raining out and it felt like a good day for homemade soup. Homemade vegetable chili at only 3 points a bowl, without having to go to the grocery store for any ingredients... awesome! More dishes... not so awesome.

While trying to put the extra three individual servings of soup in the fridge, I realized that there was NO WAY they were going to fit. I admit it, I leave cleaning out the fridge for as long as humanly possible...and today was humanly possible. So, out with the old and outdated. Out with the disgusting and putrid, out with thirty-million Tupperware containers (that's where they all were), out with the crockpot, no kidding, the entire crockpot.

Sent hubby to the store for detergent, EMERGENCY!

One dishwasher full, three sink-loads of dishes, one full load of cookie sheets, and all the refrigerator drawers and guess what time it is.... 5:30. Yep, just in time to make dinner. Damn.

Help!

Can you hear it? Can you hear my tiny voice calling, "Help me!" from beneath the laundry pile? "Somebody help me!" I can't help but whine. I just realized that last week at this exact time I was cleaning up after everyone for the one-millionth time and here I am again doing the exact same chores. There's got to be a better way to live. I gave myself two full hours to whip as much as I could into shape. I only made it 45 minutes when despair kicked in.

I guess I'm feeling sorry for myself because I'm the only one who seems to notice that we're out of clean bowls, or the lint on the dryer, or the hair in the bathroom. Where can I buy a pair of blinders like the ones my family seems to have?

***This blog has become a great excuse to procrastinate***

Okay, okay, I'm going back to it...

7 years, 44 days and 1 hour

Don't be surprised if you see me on the eleven o'clock news:

Oceangypsymom literally jumped off a cliff today when she realized that she had 7 years, 44 days and 1 hour left to go before her children moved out! She was seen wandering the neighborhood mumbling, "how many times have I picked up these socks?" Friends and neighbors feigned surprise, but they had been privy to the routinely unkempt oceangypsy house. According to their reports, mountains of laundry, crusted dishware, and a yard full of bicycles or skate boards was the norm. When questioned by authorities, her hubby, revealed that she frequently fantasized about a clean house in which she could relax and breathe deep. No amount of Yankee candles, Downey softener or Merlot seemed to make a difference.

The perpetrators (otherwise known as the children) of the messiness proclaim that they are innocent of all charges "wasn't me." They have no known memory of repeated pleadings, to pick up clothing off of bathroom floors, to turn off lights when leaving rooms or to feed the dogs. This reporter was surprised at the lack of empathy the perpetrators had towards their mother's plight. They were instead more concerned with their Rock Band, Runescape and Facebook status.

The final straw appeared to be a half eaten meal that was prepared "just the way they liked it last week." Apparently, the rendering of the meal was met with a pitiful amount of gratitude and swiftly set aside for the dogs to eat. Unable to force herself to clean the dishes just one more time, the Oceangypsymom penned a quick note to her hubby. Remember me as I was once. Remember the woman you fell in love with. With that she took off in the neighbors Mustang convertible and never looked back. Onlookers, report her last words were... 7 years.... 44 days... and 1 more hour...