Filthy Exuberance

As an earning bitch, pretty much I have resigned myself to a certain level of stress. Yay for yoga class, multivitamins, sure-- but being a Libra and all, there are things that cannot be ameliorated except with pure, unadulterated tidiness. That's what momma like. But then also there is the toddler. Exhibit A:


One thing that is highly stressing me out is my total inability to have EVERY ROOM in the house clean at the same time. It might be making me insane. As soon as we tidy one room, another becomes a disgusting flop-house tornado of smushed grapes, scraps of chewed paper, pee puddles, cheerio dust and other (often sticky) detritus. Oh sure, I know that is just life with a toddler, but I have to believe that somehow, SOMEHOW if I had the time to do a hard reset and find a permanent home for all our objects, then this chaos would be kept to a minimum. Right? At this point, every evening and weekend is spent agonizing over whether or not I have the time and energy to confront the monolith. You know, thats what I do; I narrate the awfulness as I am participating in and prolonging it. Sweet.