What a day.
I babysat for a friend this morning, so I had the toddler and an eleven-month old. The toddler was so excited when she came over, exclaiming, “Can we keep her?” By lunch he changed his tune. “I don’t like her.” Nice. And I don’t like you, buddy. (I’m kidding. Sort of. Don’t send me hate mail.)
Holy cow, I’m tired.
A few days ago, my friend, Em, asked a question on facebook. When do you clean? Or something like that. We all chimed in with our schedules and routines, but this woman has an almost three-year old and a six month old. Honestly. I wonder now, was she really asking us, how the hell do you ever do anything?
Because that’s how I felt today. Like I couldn’t even pee, let alone sweep the floor.
Things got really interesting when I tried to put the baby down for her morning nap. I was rocking her and just as she dozed off, the Toddler ran up the stairs and yelled, “Can I get myself a drink?”
The baby’s eyes popped open.
A few minutes later, the same thing happened.
“Can I have a snack?”
“Yes. You can have a snack.”
The baby was wide awake. I finally gave up on the whole nap thing and we came back downstairs. And found this.
That would be a leftover baked potato. What a great snack, don’t you think? I mean, why go for the apples on the counter or the actual snack box in the pantry when you can have a cold, leftover baked potato?
And the drink? Don’t take the sippy cup of milk in the side door of the fridge. Go ahead and pour blue kool-aid all over the floor.
So, Em? I’m officially changing my answer to your question in light of the day I had today. When I had two very small children in my house, as I did today, I didn’t get much cleaning done. I just did the best I could every day, and that was that.
When the baby’s mom came to pick her up this afternoon, I breathed a sigh of relief. She’s still alive and in one piece and on her way home. And then I remembered my own motto, or shall we say goal, when the twins were small:
Everyone alive at the end of the day.
Sometimes that’s good enough.