10 minutes ago I finished vacuuming the two rugs in our living room/kids' room. Ten seconds ago, Dietrich found an uneaten saltine cracker from lunch in the garbage can and smashed across the floor. I changed a baby diaper. He spit up on the fifth outfit he has had on today. Brad has no work shirts that are ironed -- There is three hours of ironing on the table downstairs. The baby is screaming -- unconsolably. Dietrich is crying because I won't let him play in the garbage can. We have an ant infestation in our living room-study -- mainly on the desk where I work from -- dozens of ants have been killed and many more are still emerging from some unknown place -- a flaw in the window seal? The house feels like a tomb -- uncirculating stale air everywhere. But it is only 50 degrees outside so do I turn off the furnace to open windows for 15 minutes before it's too cold and I have to close the house up again? I have three loads of laundry to fold and put away. The kitchen sink is full of dirty dishes. I need to get groceries because we were gone over the weekend visiting family and I didn't have time beforehand to stock up. I haven't planned or sent out invitations to Atticus' third birthday party -- and it is only a few weeks away. I don't know why Kodak hasn't sent out Lincoln photos yet for his official announcements -- I ordered them weeks ago. I have two pages of spring chores -- yard, house, kids' activities to take care of. And I am totally back-logged on thank you notes for various and asundry kindnesses from people celebrating Lincoln's arrival with us. I haven't combed my hair today. I found out this morning at the dentist that I have gingivitis because for the first time in my life, I forget to brush my teeth until bedtime and instead of flossing daily, I maybe get it done every couple weeks. The kids are being neglected to write this rambling, solipistic blog entry and I am procrastinating putting them down for naps because it seems too overwhelming at the moment. The baby gave up and passed out napping in the swing next to me. Atticus has disappeared and is eerily quiet. Dietrich is looking at a book in a broken chair behind me -- the cover to it was so dirty I finally unzipped it and threw it in with the filthy kitchen rugs (filthy, though I washed them about 5 days ago). Now Dietrich is trying to wake up the baby -- He is successful. Great. Okay, better go find Atticus -- either hiding because he pooped again or because he found something very fun and most likely dirty, messy, or destructive. Must go investigate. To all the people I owe emails to that are once again put off because I am writing this ridiculous glob of words on a strange intangible communication medium -- I am sorry. I'm not even going to edit this because then I would have to re-read the drivel I just wrote.
I would like to sit down with cup of coffee in a very clean, organized, lovely home and read the library book I just checked out in unrealistic (mind-hungry) optimism.
I would like to sit and play with each one of my children like they were an only child.
I would like to write a fun, creative, interesting illustrated note to put in Brad's lunch tomorrow and then surprise him with an hour long back massage with our favorite music playing in the background.
I would like to finish the drawing project I started 9 months ago.
I would like to mop the kitchen floor and scrub the bathroom walls and floor.
I would like my shirt to be clean for an entire hour.
I would like to rake my yard and plant the wildflower seeds in our front planters.
I would like to vacuum our cars out.
I would like to help my friends Tara and Wendy and Laura who either are about to have their third baby or just had their second baby with meals or watching their older children for them to have a break or to come over and clean their house or something something to encourage and help them -- but I can't even do my own life right now.
I would like to take my kids to the park this afternoon WITHOUT feeling the weight of the hundred zillion things that I am not doing with and for them, WITHOUT the guilt of the hundred zillion responsibilities that I am not taking care of in my house, yard, and relationships.
Bleh.
Bleh.
Hm.