Clean up, clean up, wash your dirty underwear!

There are certain chores I despise.

Sure, washing the dishes and doing the laundry are time-consuming, never-ending tasks. However, there are other things much much worse than those.

I call these tasks "invisichores": those chores that, upon completion, no one either notices nor cares that you spent precious minutes of your life performing said tasks.

Here are my top 3

3. Cleaning the microwave

The caked on spaghetti sauce and pulled pork were disgusting and intolerable yesterday, but does the husband even acknowledge the sparkling microwave with its lemony scent today? No. Perhaps next time I'll leave the turntable in the sink as evidence.

2. Dusting

Personally, I don't dust unless the Pope is coming over, but I can imagine that the absence of dust is hardly any more unsettling than the presence of it in my home. I just pretend the layer of dust all over the bookcase is in fact the actual color of the wood and not dust mite excrement.

1. Cleaning the toilet

Not only do I risk being splashed by water that has touched a container that has touched human waste, but it takes me freaking forever to clean the toilet! I don't know why, maybe I'm doing it wrong. The only bonus to this chore is that I always leave the blue liquid in the toilet afterwards as proof.

There you have it. Have fun doing your chores. I know I won't notice they've been done.

Let me know if you have some invisichores of your own, and how you leave proof that you didn't just spend your day eating bon-bons and watching weird Netflix shows.

A moving buddy. If you don't have one, get one!

I have terrible timing.

About a month ago I decided to rip out ten hideous bushes from my backyard that stood about 20 feet tall. Now, when the temperature has been running about 100, I decide I must plant some flowers.

What is wrong with me?!?!

First of all, no one is even selling flowers anymore. The nurseries are closed, and the garden stores have shriveled-up sorry excuses for perennials on triple-double clearance.

Nevertheless, I will be trekking to the Husband's ailing grandmother's house to rip out three hydrangeas and two roses to plant at my house. I hardly even enjoy moving about in such weather as this, yet I'm about to go force these poor plants into tiny pots and drag them 10 miles to a new home. How
inconsiderate.

Wish me luck and lots of water.

The poor hydrangeas will be needing it.

Minus the Russian spies and all that....

I am recanting my previous post and moving further back in time. Supporting statements as follows.

Point 1:

The Husband claims that people are getting more and more obese every year because of air conditioning. We've been trying to get a little more fit lately. Ergo, it's now 80 degrees in my house. Surprisingly, the conditions are not as miserable as I first assumed.

Point 2:

Since it is now so warm in my homestead, and of course considering I'm as fashionable as they come ("they" being 20-something mothers of two who have too many student loans, watch too much Gossip Girl, and have a Target card) dresses are taking over my closet. It's incomprehensible how many adorable dresses exist in stores this year. I think I might accidentally buy five right now.

Point 3:

Speaking of shopping on the internet, I purchased a new iron yesterday. It has inclined me to embrace my status as goddess of domesticity and iron all of the Husband's shirts, my bed sheets, the children's clothes, and the curtains that I don't even own... yet. All of this, of course, will be completed while wearing heels and pearls in my fabulous new dresses.

In conclusion, I watched Rear Window last night. I'm certain I will present myself as Grace Kelly, in her $1,100 Parisian gown on a 90 degree day with nary a bead of sweat, and not as the chubby sunbather who makes weird sculptures and yells at the murderous neighbor about flowers or something.

Well, maybe I'll just shoot for the middle ground and be the quick-witted home care nurse, Stella. That lady is ballin'.

Getting my Cardigan on.

I can't care about anything but vehemently rocking out to 90s pop-tunes.




While I'm at it, I'm going to wear ostentatiously colored shorts and jelly shoes. That's right, I'm in elementary school again. Thanks for the selection of everything in neon, Target!

Food is delicious.

I have two things for you to digest today.

Number one:

Stop comparing breastfeeding mothers to monkeys.

I get it. Primates are kind of like humans, having opposable thumbs and wearing clothes while they play musical instruments and all that. BUT THEY'RE ANIMALS! Just because a chimp suckles her babes until they're in preschool doesn't mean I have to. Humans have the ability to make intelligent decisions for themselves and their young that are not based solely on continuing the species. Love and affection are a few key ingredients in the mix.

(Disclaimer: I fully, 100% support breastfeeding until you and your babe are absolutely ready to discontinue, whether that be at 6 months or 6 years)

Number two:

I think I'm going to eat banana bread for every meal, and bake it every day. I'm also going to add pecans and chocolate chips to the batter, every day. Also, love and affection.

Holy Roller? Holy Roller.

You might have heard of this 2 word story thing before. I really don't know much about it, but I do know that I see the signs all over the place.

Today I saw one that said "Content? Content."

I thought, "that's the dumbest thing ever."

I suppose living a Christian life can make you feel more content, but I think it should do exactly the opposite. While striving to become more like Christ, we should feel challenged, and empowered. Never content.When we start to feel too content with our spiritual lives, that's when we invite laziness, and we stop working to become more holy.

And just so you don't feel like I'm getting too serious:

Happy Birthday, G!!

Video game championship.

How my life is like Tetris:

I know for a fact that all of my 3oz liquids and gels fit into that 1 quart bag for the flight out. How has my face wash bottle turned without my consent from a convenient line to one of those T shaped pieces with a tail growing from it?! And who put a square lotion right in the middle!?!?

The fridge was almost certainly empty when I left to go grocery shopping. I know I spent over $200 on groceries, but does that mean they need pile into the fridge with such speed that I'm mere fractions of a second away from sure demise? I will not fail you, pork tenderloin!

The kids are packed neatly in their beds at precisely 8pm. We beat the clock and every toy is stacked away nicely. I finally have a sense of accomplishment on leveling up and must force myself to take a break from the challenges or I'll definitely dream of blocks falling from the sky (although that might not be a dream if I don't tread lightly near the bookcase where the toys were precariously piled...)

It's morning, and the call of the game is unrelenting (or maybe that's Z saying "Hello! Mom! Come Here!"). We're onto the next level, but I think today we'll just stick with cuddling on the couch, three in a row with no squares in-between.

We'll go for the record number of tetrises when the husband gets home. He'll fit right in to family cuddle time, FTW.