Looking up....

I really wish this could mean that things are starting to go better around here but this is not the case.

Nesting....its a dirty word....My walls are sticky...my baseboards are growing things...my doors have tooth paste and go-gurt splashes on them....my fridge is actually eating the food I put inside of it...."Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout" lives at my house (Really???)....the mirrors in the bathroom looks like you just got out a hot shower.... 24/7......I had not been in my basement since????

I can't see the stairs....so why try.....But I did see yesterday that someone so kindly wrote the alphabet going down the wall in the basement stairwell....they are so thoughtful.....the toilet paper is not on the roller....someone painted my shower orange and rubbed Crisco all over it (ie mold??)....and here I sit. I should be down scrubbing things....washing things...preparing....but I can barely get my fat sausage fingers to type this post. I am a post Nester....oh why can't I be a pre-nester..the fact that I can't see the floor...I can't put my shoes on...or my pants...so most days..I walk around shoe-less and pants-less. Just a warning....

Yesterday, I had it! BUT the fact that squatting or kneeling was not a option...I took to slave labor (children)....and wide butt scooting. But I found something horrifying...have you ever sat on the floor of your kitchen and looked up? Getting a 1 year old perspective on things...I never knew!!! I can officially say that I have turned into one of those people that has a official dirty house....although you have to know that it will not stay that way....But for now I can only do what I can....My sister won't let me borrow her "merry maid" SO.....ANNIE....MY MICROWAVE IS FILTHY....Not just dirty..but filthy.....you now may hang your head in shame as I....Give me a few months....Before you visit....as well...I did find a few crumbs in my silverware tray....Sorry Alicia...I am one of those people....

As I scooted wide butt on my floor...scraping the??? wait.... what was that??? gum??? grime???canning crap???sticky black crap...tar??? who knows...with a toothbrush...off my floors....I looked up at the fridge....and realized that I was kidding myself....so I broke out the bleach...Busted out the fork...(I was serious) scraped the crap out of my floors, scrubbed with bleach until the baby I am sure was at serious risk.....and starting to bud another arm.....But I can officially say that the baseboards and black crap are off my floor....

So for the first time in 5 kids.... feeling the pre-nesting bug biting me.....I cleaned......ummm.....well more.... donated my children's rooms to the DI....
"We are keeping babies, doll house, kitchen, and barbies...Everything else must go!!!"....

Horror struck the children when the looked at me a realized that I indeed was serious....
We have...no joke, 50 barbies....Being the fair kind mother that I am... I said...
"you can each keep 4....."

"What? we can only have 12 barbies????"

"yeah that's good....Complain to me....I take them all....Silence...."

They all picked each others barbie to donate......AND Half way through the cleaning process I brought forth and hence....another law...

"you wanna play?....you no wanna clean?....fine you give me another barbie....to donate...and every time I see you playing....another one bites the dust...."

By the end of the clean the score was:

Hannah lost 3 additional barbies
while Grace lost 1

Very happy that our barbie total is now down to 12......
yes you will notice that 12 -4 is not 12...
But the girls convinced Brodie that he too needed his quota of Barbies so he too could play with them....
And honestly I have never seen my girls fight for "the boys" rights to play Barbies, as hard as they did....
they were very convincing....so we have 12.....

So dear friends you have asked what I needed...and instead of some cute boy things....I need to clean....buy me a maid.....

This is just in case you forgot who Sarah is......and no that is not my house.....

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout

Would not take the garbage out!
She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans, Candy the yams and spice the hams, And though her daddy would scream and shout, She simply would not take the garbage out.

And so it piled up to the ceilings: Coffee grounds, potato peelings, Brown bananas, rotten peas, Chunks of sour cottage cheese. It filled the can, it covered the floor, It cracked the window and blocked the door With bacon rinds and chicken bones, Drippy ends of ice cream cones, Prune pits, peach pits, orange peel, Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal, Pizza crusts and withered greens, Soggy beans and tangerines, Crusts of black burned buttered toast, Gristly bits of beefy roasts. . .

The garbage rolled on down the hall, It raised the roof, it broke the wall. . Greasy napkins, cookie crumbs, Globs of gooey bubble gum, Cellophane from green baloney, Rubbery blubbery macaroni, Peanut butter, caked and dry, Curdled milk and crusts of pie, Moldy melons, dried-up mustard, Eggshells mixed with lemon custard, Cold french fried and rancid meat, Yellow lumps of Cream of Wheat. At last the garbage reached so high That it finally touched the sky. And all the neighbors moved away, And none of her friends would come to play. And finally Sarah Cynthia Stout said, "OK, I'll take the garbage out!"

But then, of course, it was too late. . . The garbage reached across the state, From New York to the Golden Gate. And there, in the garbage she did hate, Poor Sarah met an awful fate, That I cannot now relate Because the hour is much too late. But children, remember Sarah Stout And always take the garbage out!

Shel Silverstein, 1974