One might have thought, from the title, that this was one of those wacky, sitcom-esque “Oh no! My mom’s on her way. Hide the porn/bong/vice of your choice!” kind of posts. Heh. If only…
The real story is that my stepmom will be here in TWO days. She just called me up out of the clear blue and told me she was coming for my son’s birthday on Wednesday. I’m glad she’s coming because she hasn’t seen my kids in two years. TWO YEARS!
I’m not glad, however, that I only have two days notice to prepare—that just isn’t enough. You see, my house has become something of a craphole in the past year. There. I said it. And I have way too much crapholey-ness to address and no time to do it:
• my carport only needs an old sofa, or perhaps a bench seat from a long-gone car, to make it truly white trash—it’s crammed with bikes, scooters, a spaghetti pot (WTH?), leaves, spider webs, a rusty old wagon, empty chalk containers, old jump ropes, a couple traffic cones and numerous pairs of dirty, outgrown fake Crocs that I keep saying I’m going to clean and give to Goodwill but probably never will
• the status of my backyard is what used to be a “work-in-progress” (soon to be downgraded to “abandoned-project” status) and it looks like complete crap.
• 98% of my grass died over our cold, dry winter and thanks to the recent weeks of torrential rain, bajillions of monster-sized weeds have taken up residence EVERYWHERE, even in the cracks of my driveway
• Earlier in the week, in a feeble attempt to address the clutter, I started going through stuff and getting ready for a yard sale. I have stacks and containers of yard sale shit everywhere
• I have about 15 loads of laundry to do to get the giant piles out of the bedrooms and hallway
• my sofa slipcovers are profoundly filthy. I tend to resist washing them because they’re the biggest pain in the ass to put back on but now I have to…
• The dustbunnies on my baseboards and in the corners probably have teeth
• every door, doorframe, glass door and mirror in this house needs a good wipe down thanks to sticky, dirty little hands that must. touch. everything.
• my kids…they make messes faster than I could ever hope to clean them up and getting them to do it? Puh…don’t make me laugh. The drama, the crying… They win every time.
• the clutter. OMFG…the clutter.
When did everything get so out of control? Ugh…I don’t know. I just know I have more work than I can possibly get done and two birthday parties to get ready for (one for school and one for home) And? I haven’t gotten birthday presents yet, either. How did I let everything get away from me to this degree? Where do I even start?
I’m not kidding about any of this. I swore we’d never be those people who had kids and then became filthmongers and yet here we are, mired in it. I’m truly overwhelmed and disgusted with myself and I can feel the anxiety building. Thank God for Xanax…
All I really want to do is take a nap.
Someone please tell me I’m not alone. Lie to me if you have to.
So what happened? Read the follow-up here