i've gotten some sweat from a sweet brother in law about bringing order to my life in the form of a schedule. while i think he meant well, i don't really think he knows me. i really think that the degree of scheduling that he was thinking of would snuff my spirit. i have a skeleton routine. it mainly revolves around food, since i'm the cook. some important sides to this routine also revolve around people in the house wearing clothes that aren't dirty. all else is just whatever needs to get done. i hate feeling like the kids get in my way. that's how i'd feel if i had a schedule.
"ahhhh, why did you throw up? now look what you've done to my schedule. you've bumped me off a whole 15 minutes with all the wiping and washing. now i can't scrub the baseboards. what is father going to say when he comes home and asks why i haven't scrubbed the baseboards?"
and yes, he told me chris should check up on me and make sure i'm doing stuff and not just sitting around eating bonbons.
well, today we cleaned the garage. it wasn't on schedule, i just felt like it. i didn't wake up feeling like it. i started to feel like it when i couldn't walk to the fridge for all the garage-like refuse in the way. the feeling completed itself when i noticed an unwrapped soft stick of butter on the seat of chris' scooter next to the rest of the pound box of butter. did i mention mary jane knows how to open the outside fridge? i know it gets hot in there because the eggs she cracks on the floor really cook.
so the garage is nice and clean. i even returned some girly baby clothes to regina. i wonder if she'll need to use them.
1 comment:
nursing
cook
dishes
vaccuming
nursing
dusting
cooking
dishes
nursing
laundry
cook
dishes
tee hee. . . . . . if one can fit more they are on a good track.
a maid for hire?
hahhahaaahaha
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