Bragging

I cannot get enough sleep. It's not even 'that time of pregnancy' where I should be needing this much sleep... but believe me. I can sure do it well. Sunday I fell asleep in Steven's arms around 7, woke up vaguely for a hour or so to change into pajamas and get a drink and was asleep again until he rubbed my feet to wake me up 12 hours later to take him to work. Two hours later I was in bed again and slept until 12, when I had to get up to get ready for work. That, my friends, is a lot of sleeping.

In between all of this, I was able to get 4 batches of laundry done, although none of them made it anywhere but a pile on a bed, ruffled through as I found my work clothes and was on my way. The kitchen was a disaster, the bedroom was a disaster and the living room wasn't so livable.

Lest I forget to mention, I don't do dishes anymore, and I don't cook anymore. Anything that has to do with food anymore than sticking a spoon or fork in my mouth makes me gag. Hence, all of that gets left to Steven and sometimes it doesn't get done.

But yesterday. Yesterday was miraculous. The garbage had all been taken out. All of it. And our garbage was like a college apartment garbage. We've all seen them. The kind where the garbage can is full. So full that there is garbage piled up higher than should be possible on top and there are piles lingering around the sides. The kind of garbage that causes the bag that was originally in the garbage can to sink to the bottom. The kind of garbage that forces you to grab another sack, just to lift pieces off the mound to make it manageable. Causing one to not only grab one garbage sack, but perhaps two or three. Big job. Something I was definitely not about to do.

The dishes were all done. All done. You know how dishes find their way, creeping along the sink counter as they explode out of the sink. How they get left on the table 'cause there's no room on the counters. Well... we all know of it. Don't lie. All of those were cleaned. Even the dishes that are so often forgotten because they're on the stove. Leftover pots and pans from dinners and lunches that were too hot at the time to be put anywhere but the next burner over and then just stay there. Those were done. AND the utensils were washed. This may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but Steven's way of washing utensils usually includes a lot of soaking. Even when the dishes have been done, there's always a cold bowl of water (used to be hot) soaking all of our forks and spoons and knives which causes me to reach my hand in to the unknown soup to grab out my cereal spoon. EVEN that was all clean.

The bedroom that I had left a total wreck had a made bed in the middle of it without any of the clothes on it that I had left twisted in the middle. They were all put away. Well, as put away as could be. Steven's were in his coffin of a laundry basket and mine were on the floor 'cause he had gotten frustrated trying to fit more clothes into the already bulging dresser. I need to go through that thing and pull out the shirts that I can't wear anymore. Like, literally cannot wear anymore. They are now belly shirts and it's kind of sickening. And they are still mixed up with all of my other clothes. I need to have a sorting and boxing day.

I didn't even make it to the living room until this morning and what do you know? The blankets on the couch were all folded up nicely on the back of it. I don't even do that when I clean up. It just feels so good to have a clean house.

Now, I know I post about our dirty house a lot. But I think I post about it that way because it's a novelty. You know? Our house is usually not that messy. Ok, the dishes are more often than not, not done. But the rest of it is decent. And there are ALWAYS clothes spilling from somewhere. But let's be serious. I am never embarrassed about the bathroom or the living room when we have guests. Which are the parts that they would ever need to use if they were just swinging by for a visit.

There was even a time, when I was using that porcelain throne three times a day to empty my stomach contents that I was cleaning that toilet every other day. If I am going to have my face that close to something it had better be clean. I've got a basket to keep all of my 'girl things' in that is easily moved up into a cupboard so that the counter isn't cluttered with a blow dryer and a straightener that I always forget to turn off with miscellaneous makeup pieces here and there. I'll admit, the bobby pins get away from me sometimes and I can find them in every room of the house, but for the most part, everything that I need to get ready in the morning stays in that basket.

I keep the floors vacuumed and clean of stuff 'cause I love my open, clean space. So life isn't that bad. Don't fear for our baby choking on something unless it's a clean sock. And I love going through clutter, so our mail is never more than a little pile of bills that need to be payed, the due dates written in large on the statements as I open them when they come and then collect them until they're all ready to be sent out at once. Makes my life complete to lick those envelopes and stick them in the mail.

I love that husband of mine. He always knows just when I need him the most and never lets me down.