socks and stuff

i have so many things i should be cleaning right now.

clothes, diapers, dishes, floors, toilets, counter tops, windows...

cleaning with a Taz tornado is sort of a buzz kill. you don't get that great satisfying feeling of looking at the good job you did...because everything you clean is immediately covered with a new mess as the tornado follows your around....

Milo can hear the dishwasher open from 2 floors away and comes hauling ass into the kitchen to climb inside and chuck knives at me. then he runs to his room and grabs toys and throws them in the dishwasher, along with his sippy cup, socks, sandwich...

it is a super fun game.

see how instead of cleaning, i am blogging? so glad to be back and have another excuse to procrastinate.

let's talk about laundry for a family of 4 plus cloth diapers.

annoying.

remember when you lived alone and laundry was like once a week....or maybe once every 2 weeks....and you would walk tot the laundromat with one basket and it took maybe 2 loads and you read a book and sipped a latte and watched clothes spin in dryers and it all felt so indie movie-esque and sort of grown up in a cool college way?

i don't remember those days either.

because my brain is mush and i am swimming in laundry. piles of man socks. how many socks does one man need? i think Dan has 5000 pairs of white socks. baby PJ's. tween jeans. disgusting cloth diapers (who's idea was this?) and of course all my elastic waist loungewear...because i refuse to wear anything that makes me feel fatter...like anything that isn't pajamas. everything i own has a Milo handprint in yogurt smeared on it. last night i took off my tanktop and half a granola bar fell out.


i thought this was the future. where is my fucking laundry robot?


on a side note: nothing, NOTHING, inspires me to clean, like watching an episode of hoarders.