Clean house, happy momma

Because of my wrenched foot, my poor house has been majorly neglected in the last five days.

If you have or have ever had children in your home, you know this spells disaster.

Bradley and the kids have tried to tidy up, but let's face it:  A "clean" room to children is not the same thing as a "clean" room to a momma.  On Saturday, Bradley spent most of the day outside, getting the yard ready for the winter and taking down the old shed.  I had grand intentions, after the neglect of Thursday and Friday, but spent most of my Saturday with my foot up.  Sunday was not much different, for me at least.

This afternoon, my tolerance to the mess finally evaporated.  Limping around, I cleaned and de-cluttered and scrubbed and rearranged and dumped for three hours.  Oh, how my foot hurts, but oh, how wonderful it is to have a clean house again.

I used to be able to ignore an amazing amount of mess and clutter.  Sometime in the last three years, I've lost that ability.  Figures I would find my neat-freakness just as my children are reaching the very messy stage of life.