This is what it always looks like in our family room.
Some defaced dolls:
An overflowing, upturned toy cupboard:
Other highlights from this weekend, courtesy of my three kids:
I went upstairs to make my bed after breakfast and found a hockey stick in my bed, and cookie crumbs. I asked my son what was going on and he told me that he took the stick up to watch tv, and then ate some cookies. In my bed.
I was packing the Boy’s backpack for soccer and realised the drawstring was missing from his shorts. After searching for it high and low, the string revealed itself in its new form – as a leash for a stuffed cow that my two daughters were “walking” up and down the street. The drawstring is now covered in dirt and frayed at both ends.
As much as I love and appreciate being at home most of the time, I’m finding the “drudgery” aspect very difficult to bear. No matter how many times I clean, vacuum and tidy, it’s messy and cluttered again in minutes. The chaos in my environment seeps into my psyche, and I feel stressed and upset.
I need serenity and order, but it seems a long way off. I miss the satisfaction of being at work and completing a task. A sense of accomplishment, being appreciated, finishing something and feeling good about the product. Here, nothing is ever completed; it’s just one long, unending clean-up.