When I had one kid, I quickly learned that the time that once existed for all the things that needed to be done around the house evaporated into almost nothing. There are three kids now, and even though only one is at home during the day, not much has changed, because we are three times the mess we used to be. I am extremely fortunate if I manage to carve out an hour to get something done.
Last week, I was just that lucky and used my hour to clean out the coat closet and the shoe bin. I stashed away all the winter hats, gloves, snow pants and boots. (Because it's like, MAY.) Everything sorted and stored in the basement, and I gave myself a little pat on the back for a job well done. Now ... this is not a fun task. This sucks. And everyone has to do it, it's not like I'm over here doing something extraordinary and unique and special. It's just putting away the winter clothes, but the effort and the time it took to actually get it done was monumental.
So.
I managed to get another bonus hour of time today. This time, I cleaned out the linen closet and started on the kids' rooms. I'm almost done with middle child's room, opened his nightstand drawer to put something away and find - his winter gloves.
WTF?
So.
I have to take the gloves all the way into the basement, unstack the bins and put them away with all his other winter gear ... in addition to all the other stuff going on today. Oh! Did I forget to mention the mess made by child #3 in order to get any task completed? Yeah, add that bit of fun to the mix.
A hurculean effort to get one stupid chore completed, and then add one more thing on top. Now - multiply this teeny tiny example by one hundred. Because that's what it's like. All. The. Time.
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