Martha Stewart Doesn't Live Here

But I do. And so does my husband. And my kids. And one of us has to clean.

I've been putting it off for soooo long. It seems like such a futile task. One second it's clean, the next it's red and sticky with bits of lint stuck all over.

Using my keen powers of self-trickery I had previously purchased the Mr. Clean Bathroom Wand thingy, as well as some new flushable toilet cleaners and the cutest pair of plastic gloves (Target Dollar Spot), all of which worked wonders in convincing me that what I was doing was fun.

That being the case, I was cleaning for the better part of the day, and left the kids with Shawn, so I don't have any good stories except that Jax's poop is subsiding (did I forget to mention he had a stomach virus this weekend?), he's rockin' his Big Boy Bed, and Ryan had chilled out a bit, but has yet to let go of her passion for slamming doors.

P.S. Check out what I've been working on in my 'spare time'...