Yesterday I looked around my house and saw this: bowls of congealed oatmeal on the kitchen table, construction paper confetti under the dining room table, a smattering of superheroes and Matchbox cars on the family room rug, and — the crowning touch — a Pokemon action figure IN the toilet.
Surveying this scene, it would be completely understandable to think that:
a) the place had been ransacked by wild raccoons,
b) the children who live here were abandoned by their parents and left to be raised by the raccoons, or
c) the person in charge of this household has sanitation standards just barely above those of a Cambodian prison.
In all cases, sadly, you’d be mistaken. I actually clean my home DAILY, all evidence to the contrary. Over and over again, I try — and I fail — to stem the tide of glitter-encrusted artwork infiltrating my house, to impose a “whatever you take out, you put back” rule, to get my family on board with putting away their own belongings. But still, I end up with dirty underwear on the floor and Batman action figures in my pantry.
Read more about my home organization woes at TheBump.com. And if anybody’s got suggestions on how to manage the chaos, I’d love to hear them.