I am having a meltdown about the mess in my house. I have grown accustomed to releasing control over the state of my living room. Over the last two years I have tamed my obsession for minimalist design to accept the presence of a toy chest, which when closed was a rather stylish bench. This way I could pretend after the kids’ bedtime that my living space was still an adult kingdom with no phosphorescent crap laying everywhere. It was like sheer magic!
And then came G & P’s first Christmas, the first bike, their first birthday, L’s birth, the pretend play kitchenette, the second bike (recycled from the trash compactor room by DH), L’s pack and play to prevent his siblings from wrecking his ribs with their hugs, jumping onto him or stuffing him with dry Cheerios etc. In short, the gremlins took over.
I was doing OK so far but this morning, I lost it. Why?
There was a green fabric tunnel from IKEA bought by DH (which he decreed was a successful buy…) in the middle of my fucking living room. It is green, huge, everywhere: it is like Shrek invading my home.
I thus decided to retreat to my room which by the way is not technically my room anymore . We are sleep training L and DH and I have been sleeping on the sofa bed for 10 days now (pure torture when you know you have a Tempur medic mattress in your bedroom). I looked at my desk and my head started to spin. Here what you could find:
– an iron, which really does not make any sense since last time I used an iron was when I was still living at my folks and my dad made me and my sister iron all the clothes for our family of 7 EVERY freaking Sunday
– a set of ropes, strings and wire: no, DH and I are not into S & M and I am not making explosives either; it is my millinery kit. I haven’t made a hat in two years but it makes me feel good to think that maybe one I will have time to design, block and trim the 4 felt hoods I have in stock somewhere
– a Art deco necklace from 30s broken by my darling little girl P, seconds after she said ‘Beautiful, Mommy’ and bang all glass beads inside the bra
– L’s birth announcements, yes they are still here and at this rhythm they will be soon be ‘Hey guys, I am turning one’ announcement cards
– 4 Sketch books (who freaking needs 4 sketch books????)
– Nursing pads, my new best friends
– a breast pump
– a Yankees cap with rhinestones I was supposed to send to my 92 year old grand ma in Oz months ago
– Wall decals I was supposed to put in the kids’ bathroom a year ago
– my MacBook which obviously was out of battery
Needless to say, I am not looking for a job today. As I was about to bang my head against the only crap free one inch square of my desk, I could hear G screaming at the top of his lungs: HELP ME!!!! HELP ME!!! That is his new thing. He cannot open a book, he screams HELP ME. His sister touches him, he screams HELP ME. He is bored, he screams HELP ME. His shoes have sand after he literally swam in the sandpit, he screams HELP ME. And so on. And so on.
I am officially jealous of my son.
NB: DH has just told me that supposedly there were also some completed tax returns forms on my desk because we made a mistake in filing those the first time around and we owed some money to the taxman. No idea of what he is talking about. Oops…