Blowing My Top  

In my new life as a stay at home mom, I feel it is my job to keep the house clean. Now, I will admit, I have fallen (embarrassingly) short of this goal for the last two months-- particularly when it comes to doing the laundry, my least-favorite household chore. I blame it on my pregnancy, which has sapped my energy and left numerous bouts of nausea in its place. But over the past few days, I've started to feel that "second trimester surge," which has given me new life... and new determination to fulfill my role as "housewife."

It is now one o'clock here on the east coast as I type this post. So far this morning, I have done three loads of laundry (G was running out of clothes, I'd realized DH & I had been using the same bathroom towels for--ick--a month, and this morning's potty-training efforts fell short while G was sitting in her high chair); I've folded and put away all three of those loads; I've managed to get myself dress, G dressed (twice, as a result of our potty-training mishap), and the dog walked; we've eaten a balanced breakfast (ok, it was just Cheerios, but those things are heart healthy) and a hearty lunch (red beans and rice!).

I'd planned on doing those tasks. I was up for it.

I was not up for completely rearranging G's closing.

I was not up for a near-fire in the dryer's lint trap.

I was not ready to empty out our entire linen closet in search of the good towels.

You see, when I--ahem--failed to live up to expectations over the past eight weeks, DH attempted to pick up the slack. Please note the word "attempted" in that last sentence. Because, yes, while I should be very happy that he at least tried to keep our house in order, he managed to knock my world completely out of whack.

Example 1:
I have a system for G's closet. We have three different colored hangers. White hangers are for the clothes she's growing out of (2T); green hangers (as in green means GO!) are for clothes that fit her perfectly right now (3T); red hangers (as in, red means STOP!) means these clothes are either out of season or are too big for her (4T). It makes sense to me... apparently, not so much to DH. Because over the past two months, he didn't even take note of the system. He didn't even try. ARGH.

Example 2:
Here's the dryer; here's the lint trap. It needs to be emptied every week or so, otherwise you are putting your home at risk of fire. Not emptying the lint trap for two months? Let's just say, I'm lucky I didn't have to call the fire department this morning.

Example 3:
We have two sets of towels. The first set includes all the towels I owned pre-marriage (as in, grody towels I used in college) and those we got at our bridal showers. They are all at least six years old; they are used to clean up messes, not to dry our clean bodies upon exiting the shower or tub. The second set includes six plush, Egyptian-cotton towels I got at a REMARKABLE day-after-Christmas sale last year. These towels pamper your skin, rather than leave chaff marks. Despite the obvious difference between the two sets, DH has been putting out the wrong set for the past two months... and where he put the good towels? Who the hell knows. I'm just praying he didn't take them to work and give them to the inmates.

Now, I know that most of this (ok, really ALL of it) is my fault. First, I should have been doing these chores myself; second, I should have noticed when things first started going awry, not after the cataclysmic impact of household armageddon had already annihilated any sense of order. I'm sorry--I was in a first trimester (and second trimester, too) stupor.

But fear not! I am back to my old self... and DH, let me warn you: my anal retentive, type-A, OCD personality is back with a vengeance... so WATCH OUT!