House. is kicking. my trash.

I am reaching a breaking point. I had a doctor's appointment this morning. Didn't make it. Was running around the house looking for one PAIR of Lucy's shoes. I found plenty of shoes. Single shoes. With no mates. Everywhere I turn are single shoes, taunting me. Consider putting two different shoes on her. Jason is running around also, because he has a morning meeting conveniently at the same time as my doctor's appointment. So there is no helping each other. You gotta fend for yourself in these situations and shove each other out of the way in the process if needed. Ended up rescheduling the docs appt, and finding a way to blame it all on Jason, because I'm a blamer and I know he hid the matches to her shoes. I'm an evil woman. Good thing he thinks I'm pretty funny I guess.

I am overwhelmed. I really cannot handle how much effort it takes to organize and clean a house and how little it takes to trash it. 2 seconds. We have a tupperware cupboard. Right down on Lucia's level. Used to think it was just so cute when she'd gleefully drag out the unbreakable dishes:. Look at that face. Pure elation:

Except now the tupperware has completely taken over my life. All over our bedroom, all over the bathroom, in the bathtub, upstairs in her room, in the laundry. Everywhere I go there is a plastic container mocking me. And I'm not stupid, I know when I'm being mocked. I gather them up from the ends of the house and put them back at the end of every. single. day. And then we wake up and do it all over again!

She's also figured out how to open the chests of drawers in our bedroom and bathroom. "Just grab the little handle and yank mom, see? So easy." Drags the contents out. Every last item of every last drawer, every day of my life. And as I'm trying to put things away, singing ,"Clean up, clean up, everybody everywhere, clean up, clean up, everybody do your share," to try to get her in on the action, she is following me, immediately taking out everything I have just put away. I look at her with glowing red eyes and tell her it's not such a good idea to do what she's doing, and she smiles back at me. "But what you don't know mom, it's just so easy! High five!"

Found a large towel completely submersed in the toilet as well. Jumped because I thought it was an animal that had drowned. I can't bring myself to blame Jason for that one. Don't know how it got there because she is NEVER out of my sight. But maybe she has accomplices that are hiding around the house. Maybe she has an entire crew of destructors waiting for me to turn around so they can come out and destroy. And maybe she is the queen destructor and they have ceremonies for her at night in her room around a fire and offer her sacrifices. I don't know, don't tell me it's not possible.

I have but one child, people. And one on the way who is not making messes yet except for my personality. How do mothers of litters stay on top of it all? Because frankly I've always thought of myself as a mother of a litter. Once I felt the sweetness of holding Lucy in my arms for the first time I didn't know if I'd ever be able to stop having babies actually. Do you honestly ever get to the point that you just, "have a system" that works? Or do you surrender yourself over to disaster and choose to be happy and piglike rather than obsess over keeping things tidy? I remember in a biology class I took not too long ago skimming over the concept of entropy, which basically is defined as the tendency for all matter and energy in the universe to evolve towards a state of disorder and chaos, or "inert uniformity". So is this just inevitable? Is this just one of nature's laws? That anything worth obtaining is always the more difficult route and ALWAYS will require the exertion of effort on our parts? Like having an organized house over living in squaller? Like having a successful career? Like staying physically in shape? Like gaining knowledge and spiritual intelligence? Like the constant attempt to progress towards perfection? Blah blah blah, stop me. Too deep for this post. And I'm just chapping myself more.

I know we all like to pretend we are just naturally cleanly and orderly people, and our families just clean up after themselves and don't leave our stuff out. "We just don't really seem to make messes in the first place, and that's how we do it." Let's get real. Because I know with more children it will only get more difficult because they inevitably acquire more junk. And will, like Lucy behave like raccoons getting her mischievous little mitts into EVERYTHING. (She does like shiny things, too.:) I am fighting the urge so bad to just throw everything we own away and start over. Don't want to do the dishes. Just throw the dirty ones out, they're no good. And I'm regretting moving into a house. A rather large house according to some standards. I miss our 3 bedroom condo.