Sanity

Oh my, I could use a little sanity right now. Usually, while I love everything to be squeaky clean and magazine picture worthy, I don't have the time, energy or wherewithall to keep it that way, so I make do by keeping things mostly clutter free and moderately clean. Whenever I try to get and keep it super, company clean, I become an obsessive bitch, running around shouting about yogurt and urine and shoes and dog hair. I hate that side of me. So, now, when I have three spunky kids (not a laid back boy in the bunch), an inside dog, a largish house, no time, and a need for a nearly squeaky clean house, I'm in a tiny hell. I want to be relaxed about everything, but I simply can't, and while the boys are doing their best to help (and the poor pup is spending a lot of time outside or in the garage or riding along with us in the car) by cleaning their room and picking up their toys and putting away their laundry, I feel my inner bitchy woman emerging at the drop of a hat (or a milk cup or a half-eaten peach or plum or half a bag of crunchy cereal). Add to it the need to clean the garage and our outside dogs' kennel, and I'm a mad, sad woman.

But, in the overall scheme of things, this is nothing. We will or won't sell the house quickly, at a good or medium or bad price, and life will go on. In the meantime, I'll work on taming the inner beast, who wants nothing more than pull little white hairs out of the couch cover...