...while making breakfast

     It's time to make breakfast.  REAL breakfast.  Joe is off to work and the kids are at school so I have plenty of time to create something great.  Something only I would love.  Eggs are pretty lame but hey, that's what breakfast is supposed to be made out of.  I'll make some bacon because bacon is bacon, it's good any time of the day.  Maybe I'll make it interesting by adding some sautéed mushrooms, onion and bell pepper. That sounds kind of awesome. Get a nice plump over easy egg to lay on top, maybe sprinkle some cheese, surround it all with bacon, fry up some asparagus with lemon and parmesan.  This is actually sounding great!  Then I could pr--- "WOW!  BACON! Are you making breakfast for me?  Awe, thanks babe.  Smells great!"
     Sigh.  Scrambled eggs it is.  Damn, I thought he was gone already.

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...while wiping the counters

"MOMMY the kitchen looks BEAUTIFUL!!  It's so CLEAN!  Thanks mommy!"
I don't know if I should be proud or offended.

...while observing my home

Right now Im feeling like my house isn't messy enough. It's at a point where all the rooms are "eh" messy, but nothing is "OH MY GOSH" messy. When things are "OH MY GOSH" messy, it's a lot more exciting to clean it because there is a wonderfully noticeable difference. When it is "eh" messy, there isn't enough of a change in the room to make me feel accomplished and excited. And who wants to be let down when hard work and effort can't be measured? Sweeping made a big difference. A room becomes livable if it is swept. But it wont look much different if I clear my desk, put the pile of socks away, straighten the pillows and change the ink cartridge in the printer. So what's the point? The floor in my laundry room is clear (gasp!) and I wiped the counters in the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. I have some laundry to fold that has been sitting in the living for exactly 2 weeks, but is that really where I want to spend my time right now? It's only the girls' clothes and they will be able to finish the week wearing clean clothes. Plus, the baskets, although stacked, aren't causing a tripping hazard or blocking the TV. Dog could be washed, but he isn't too stinky. He's tolerable. I could clean my bedroom, but that wont make me feel like the house is clean. I'm at a loss.

...while stumbling through the laundry room

Thats it. I give up. Im not going to kid myself any more. Im never going to find a routine, or a schedule, or a step by step list that will help me with this laundry. Laundry will never be finished- accepted! Laundry will always make me mad- accepted! Lack of clean clothes may very well contribute to divorce- accepted! People will fall down the stairs and die after tripping over piles of clothes on the landing- accepted! Children will go without underwear for many days at a time- accepted! Other housewives will not judge me because of my inability to complete laundry- accepte... wait a minute here. I have a thought. Yes, yes those housewives. THOSE housewives. The ones who "love" laundry. You did this to me. Your foofy blogs about how simple laundry can be, about the "tips" that can guide any woman to a happy and healthy laundry relationship. I'll tell you something. Enjoying laundry so much that you feel you can help others achieve laundry success is just sick. My advice is to keep your passion in your own laundry room, because its not normal. Just like collecting vacuums, cast iron skillets, and figurines of cows to clutter the kitchen isn't normal. Did I fail? Did I fail because I cant follow the rule of keeping laundry off of the laundry room floor, no matter what? Did I fail because I dont fold clothes the minute they come out of the dryer, like you suggested? Am I a failure because I cant figure out how the hell you fold those fitted sheets so well? YES! Right? Is that what you want me to say? I can see the smirk on your laundry loving face. I can hear you saying "you could do it if you REALLY wanted to" under your breath. No I cant. There! Now I'm happy. Because I hate laundry...and that is normal.

...while getting ready for school

My five year old: "Mom, how come it takes so long for you to wash stuff?" "Uh, uhmm, [processing-stutter stutter ] I, uh... ehhhh...-think think think, respond! respond!- quick change of topic... Just go get dressed, you have some clean clothes sitting in the hamper at the bottom of the stairs. I think the skirt you wore last week is still dirty, so you're gonna have to dig for something clean." Now on to breakfast... if all of the spoons aren't still sitting in the sink.

...while panicking after a phone call

Company will be here in about a half hour. OK, how am I going to make my house presentable in a half hour with out it making it look like I cleaned it for them? Because if they think I cleaned it for them they will know that it was a mess and it was a big enough mess that I was embarrassed by it which means I'm not a good housekeeper because good house keepers dont have such messy houses. Anyway, I have to make it look like I wasn't trying. First things first... the stairs. Grab the panties, roll of toilet paper, toy horses and trash and bring it up the stairs, plop it against the wall just behind the corner of the landing so it wont be seen. Close all doors, drop all shutters, and turn off all upstairs lights to make it seem as uninviting, yet clean, as possible. Bathroom. Rub hand around the inside of the sink with brute force to get clumps of toothpaste off of the sides, then thouroughly wash hands after gagging (should have remembered to grab the clorox wipes from the grocery store two weeks ago). Close shower curtain, make sure the hand towel doesn't stink, dim the light, and be on your way. Laundry room. Close your eyes and walk quickly to the laundry room. Hold your breath is necessary. Dont look, just close the door and walk away. Just walk away. Kitchen. DO NOT START DISHWASHER. Starting the dishwasher will make them think that you JUST cleaned the kitchen, cleaned it just for them, and that you don't have the ability to simply KEEP it clean. Fill the sink with hot soapy water and submerge all dirty dishes. That will totally throw them off. Make sure to wipe the counters super quick and them sweep everything from the kitchen floor into another room with great big swoops to save time. Just keep the lights off in that area. Good enough. Go throughout the house and push things aside into dark corners. No time to put it away, but if you kinda scatter it a bit and push it into multiple corners it will look like a little mess here and there instead of a floor that has been covered with stuff for weeks. Even thought the vacuum is still in the hallway from when the house was vacuumed two weeks ago, it needs to be put away or they will think you just vaccummed for them and again, dont have the ability to keep a house clean enough for sudden company to arrive. We dont want that. Entrance. Shove all of it, whatever it is, into the entry way closet and pray that your company isn't polite enough to remove their shoes and politely stow them away in the closet. Don't forget to threaten the kids with death if they let the cat out of the bag by yelling something like "Wow mom! its so clean in here!" Also, gotta sit them down with a coloring book or something to make it look like thy are perfectly happy without tv. To keep that facade up, you're company will need to leave after about a half hour. Now that I pretended to clean my house I can put together my story. To a normal person, it will look like I usually keep a cleanish house, but I will head the conversation off with "so sorry about the mess, I've just been so tired today I figured I could slack off a little." Then the whole "oh no way, it looks fine, you deserve a day off here and there " will come into play. Afterword, I will sit and listen to the "being a stay at home mom is a hard job, you're doing great!" shpeal and tell myself "dont worry, you'll get a routine down someday so that you wont have to try and dupe everyone that comes over. It will happen, dont worry. It will happen."

...while being busy

I get reminded of what a liar I am every time my kids ask for a snack or a treat but I am too busy, annoyed, or lazy to get it for them. "Mom, can I have some more chips?" "No, they are gone. Go play." Lie number one. "Can I see that it's gone Mommy?" Hmmm, she obviously knows this trick. I've duped her before into thinking something was gone when, in fact, I just didn't want her to have it or I didn't want to go get it. "You dont need to go look, I told you they were gone. Believe me, they are gone." Lie number two. Without a word she gently turns around and heads toward the kitchen. I know what she's doing and in my head I rehearse my next lie. She shows up a few minutes later with the bag of chips, obviously still full of chips. She holds it in front of me with a somewhat accusatory expression on her face. "Oh, I thought they were gone, I thought your dad finished them last night." Lie number 3. "Can I have some?" "Ehhhhhh, fine." I act annoyed, hoping she would think I was upset that she kept asking even though I told her they were gone, and that I was doing her a favor by backing down and giving into her, showing her that I am a super nice mommy. In all actuality, I was just being lazy, figuring she would accept the lie and go do something else, or she would fetch the treat herself, getting me off the hook. I'm such a big fat liar. Bad Sarah, Bad.

...while studying kindergarten poilitics

There is some kind of underground toy trade going on amongst the children. Little did we know, that the school district has an extensive network of kindergartners forming secret alliances, coordinating deals and offers, gifts and threats, bartering and demanding while on the busses to and from school. My daughter comes home with a pony I have never seen, and one of her horses is missing. The next day she came home with a barbie, and one of her Zoobles is gone. These were the first signs of the secret toy trade recently brought to light. Through my strategically placed first grade spies, I learned that most of the deals went on between busses 474 and 516, and there were three children running the deals. The pieces were falling into place and it was almost time to strike. One day it all came to a head. My own daughter was heading the organization! She flew out of the bus with panic on her face. Sweat dripped from her brow as she tried to catch her breath. "She's going to do it, she really is! She's going to throw away the Princess Luna my little pony!!!" The drama was intense. "She said we were no longer friends, and that I would never see that pony again!!" It was time to put an end to this secret, underground toy trading network. We ran as fast as we could back to the house, hearts racing, huffing and puffing as if being chased by a rabid dog. I threw open the door, grabbed the phone, and contacted the other governments involved with the investigation. After a brief telephone discussion the situation was diffused, and the ring of terror had been disolved. Backpacks were to be checked every morning before getting on the bus and any toys found will be confiscated. The kindergarten masterminds will sit separately, placed between two second graders for both protection and control. Through careful planning and cooperative communication, the toy trade was successfully shut down.

...while feeding the fish

The lady at the pet store said that my x-ray fish will "do better" if I bought a second fish because they are "schooling fish". So, what if he stays alone? Will he get depressed? Is he going to refuse to eat? Swim circles around the tank in a state of neurosis? Mope along the bottom with a far off look in his eye? How will I know if he is doing poorly? I'm no expert, but he seems fine to me and I think he will get a long very well with one of those cool neon fish. And if he does die from a lonely depression I hope he gives me a sign because the friggin fish is practically invisible, and the last thing I want is TWO invisible fish taking up all the valuable water space. Having a fish tank is way too stressful.

...while contemplating my mess

My kitchen is clean. It is beautiful. White counter tops, cherry wood cabinets, stainless steel appliances. Finally, after weeks of halfassing it, I have cleaned the kitchen. It will be thrashed after I prepare just one meal and I will lose control of the cleanliness, so I have decided to take a picture. Every time I clean a room to perfection I am going to take a picture of it. I will put these photos together in a photo album so that I may look through them on a daily basis. It is only then that I will be able to see what my house looks like when it is in perfect condition. I will take a picture of each of my children right after their bath, neatly dressed, hair perfectly done. This photo album will be the example of a perfect home. I will name the album "Only in My Dreams". And yet, I do accept the fact that happiness comes only when you accept reality. The reality is this; I am a slob.

...while cleaning Clara's room

What a heart warming sentence. "Mom, I'm going to clean my room today and choose the right by helping you clean the house." How comforting and encouraging. My five year old wants to help me. "OK Clara, lets get to it! You gonna help me? I'm in your room, come on darling!" No answer. Hmmmm. "Clara?" Nowhere to be found. Ah, there she is, coloring in her my little pony book. "Are you coming?" No answer. She didn't even look up at me. "Clara, I'm talking to you." No response. "Clara, do not ignore your mother, answer me right now! Get in your room right now and clean it! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?! Well now you're doing it by yourself. See what happens? I was so happy that you were going to help. Now you have to sit alone in your room cleaning all by yourself. We could have been doing it together, having a good time, getting it done quickly, and I would have been in a good mood. Now I'm stressed and mad and you are in trouble. Happy now?" 15 minutes later... I swear if she is not cleaning I am going to FREAK.... "Mommy look! I have all my horses set up around the room and this is where the castle is and these are the ponies that help princess cylestia run the kingdom. These horses have to stay in the stable because they aren't pretty enough to play with these horses. This pony is dressed for the ball and she is leading the other ponies. The pegasus is up high overlooking the horses making sure nobody fights. Isn't it all beautiful? Will you play with me Mommy?" I'm Crying, being angry, laughing, being mad, melting, and submitting. I have been conquered by a five year old. "Of course I will play with you!"

...while wiping the counters

I knew it was going to break. I looked at the thing and said "that cup is too close to the edge of the counter, it's going to fall and break." So why didn't I move it? Why didn't I scoot it three inches back? What kind of overwhelming laziness took over me? So here's the mess and holy cow, it must have landed beautifully because it has covered the entire kitchen floor with even distribution. So instead of taking the two seconds to scoot the cup back or, God forbid, wash it and put it away, I now have the task of sweeping the floor at least twice, vaccuuming the floor repeatedly, scouring every surrounding room to make sure glass didn't magically shoot from wall to wall and end up in the basement like it has been known to do, and then I get to worry about the invisible shards of glass that cling to the cracks inside the grout, just waiting to pop up one day into a little foot. There are no tweezers small enough for those buggers. I have such wonderful foresight as a mom and a housewife. I don't know why I don't take advantage of this gift to save myself from these disasters. Two seconds and three inches could have rescued me. Two seconds and three inches. Well then, let the cleaning commence!

...while cleaning house

I love it when I get it all done! YES! The laundry, the dishes, the kitchen, the vacuuming, the mopping, the sterilizing, the bathing, the baking, the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the dusting. ALL OF IT! DONE! Ahhhhhhh.... those were the days.

...while driving home

No no no no, where's the rest of my candy bar. I couldn't have finished it, stay calm. Empty wrapper? Come on, I drove all the way to target to satisfy this craving only to forget that I was eating it and accidentally finished it all without savoring it? What was I doing? Talking to Lyla, that's what I was doing. Well then it's her fault, that candy bar didn't count. I get to go back and get a new one because that certainly didn't count.

...while not doing laundry

So here I am, sitting at the top of the stairs. Still in my pijamas, which is nothing new. How can I get out of this laundry thing that needs to be done. I can smell the wicked chore at hand and I can feel the weight of those friggen hampers crushing my lap as I sit here. Please pick up your butt. Grab your feet and drag yourself into the bedroom. No no, don't stare at the piles of clothes and cry as you shake your fist at the sky. MUSIC! I need music. Or maybe caffeine. Or a maid. Or a slave. Or I could just sit here at the top of the stairs trying to think of some clever way to motivate myself. The images in my head of other people doing my laundry isn't helping.

...while doing the dishes...

The dog is chewing on toy horse. Eh, that ugly, fuzzy little horse. I hate that thing. Then again, Clara will FLIP if she sees that it has been shredded. Still, the dog is occupied. Will Clara notice if the toy is gone? I could let the dog finish eating the toy and get rid of all evidence so Clara will be none the wiser, or I could satisfy my frustration with this mess by showing her the destroyed toy and firmly saying, "SEE!" This is what happens when you leave your toys out on the floor! Sucks doesn't it? I don't know how many times I have told you to clean up your toys. Im not your slave! I don't follow you around and put away the trail of toys that meanders through the living room. Don't know what to tell you, its not my fault." I'll compromise. Ill clean up the mess after Dory eats the toy, then I will tell Clara that the dog got one of her horses but I don't know which one and next time she should remember to pick up her things. That way, it will go in one ear and out the other and the whole situation will be null and void, without incident and with neutral feelings. How boring.

...while looking out the window

Wouldn't it be nice of me to get out that leaf blower and take care of that mess? It would make Joe so happy! He would just LOVE it and would probably give me the night off. Plus our yard would look beautiful, unlike our neighbor with the ugly grass and tacky front yard. Everyone would see me out there and think " oh how nice, a woman actually out there taking care of yard business instead of a man. So refreshing. Plus I could just blow away all the dog poop instead of picking it up. However, I have never used a leaf blower, I've never even turned it on and from what I saw it had some kind of lever thing or a thing you have to push or pull like on a lawn mower, I don't know if I have to yank on the thing because I didn't watch joe turn it on and it's big and I would feel stupid like the entire neighborhood was watching me wrestle the thing, thinking to themselves "that's why women shouldn't take care of yard business." Forget it.

...while jogging

Ok, hit my 1/2 mile stride, woohoo! Here we go open road! Hee-ya dog, pick up the pace, hee-ya! We're movin, we're movin, we're -- DORY YOU STUPID DOG DON'T STOP IN FRONT OF ME! Ok, here we go-- IT'S JUST A CAR, WHY ARE YOU STOPPING? LETS GO! NO NO NO DON'T POOP IN THE STREET! Great. I forgot a bag. Oh well, nobody will know it was my dog, there's no way I would jog around with a bag full of poop anyway. Feel in it, into the groove, pickin up speed, ignore the squirrel, ignore the squirrel, DORY IGNORE THE SQUIRREL! STOP TUGGING! Ok, another runner commin this way. Don't worry about my dog, not all pit bulls are nasty, she's a good dog, don't worry. What a jerk! You move all the way to other side of the road to avoid my dog? Whatever. You look stupid in your little outfit any way. DORY DON'T BARK AT HIM! DONT BARK DON'T BARK! "she's really nice, I promise, she wont hurt you, have a nice day Mr." .....I'm going home.

...while unloading the dishwasher

I wonder if any of my neighbors can hear me singing. If I crack the windows a litltle bit they may hear me singing but it wont look like I'm intentionally trying to get them to hear me because the windows are only cracked, not fully open, thus giving them the idea that I don't know how great I am. Then one day on the way to the mail box someone would be like " oh hey I heard you singing the other day," and I'd be like " really?? I didn't know anyone was listening." and then they would say " you know, I have a friend in the music industry, I'd love to introduce you to him." and I'd be like "wow! how unexpected!" then I would meet them and they would love me, I'd become a huge music star right away, bypass the whole American idol road block, spread my wealth to those in need, cure world hunger, buy Italy and live the rest of my life peacefully in my giant home with my maids to clean up after me. All because I accidentally left the window open while unloading the dishwasher.