Feeling a bit guilty
I have to admit it. I’m enjoying being home by myself during the day. All of the kiddies have gone off to school this year–even the littlest one. Heavens, how they grow up so fast.
At first I was dreading this. I even…well maybe just for a split second…cried at the thought. What was I gonna do with myself? For the first time in YEARS I was not gonna have someone under foot asking for something or messing up the living room that I just cleaned.
And then there was the silence to contend with. It was down right eerie. No longer was Dora the Explorer blaring at me from the TV (praise the maker!). I could actually hear myself think, it was so quiet. But it was nothing that a radio, cranked up in the back ground, couldn’t solve. Plus, there was the extra added bonus of being able to sing out loud to my favorite songs without my kids asking me not too. My dream of becoming a tone-deaf backup singer may still come true yet.
Honestly, all of this was a bit much to take in… at first. And then it happened. I became possessed by Martha Stewart hyped up on caffeine. Honey, I went crazy.
I cleaned my house from top to bottom, inside and out. You name it, I did it. I even vacuumed–yes VACUUMED– out the attic and organized everything with those plastic Rubber Maid containers. The hall closet got caught up in the whirlwind and suffered a makeover too, only not quite as nice of one as the attic.
All of the laundry is up to date to the point that I’ve gone looking for things to wash. I’ve washed the rugs by the back and front door, all the curtains in the house, all the dog’s toys and blankets, and all the stuffed animals in the toy box. I even washed my car’s floor mats. Nothing is safe, not even the clean laundry. If it looks at me the wrong way, watch out buddy. Into the washing machine it goes. I’m loving It!
The Iron and ironing board got a good dusting off also. I haven’t used either one of those things in about ten years. All the sheets and bed covers got a good hot smoothing—-while they were still on the bed. I think this is what they call denial….
Who am I kidding;i miss all the noise and those sticky little hands leaving fingerprints on the refrigerator. I miss the constant running around, up and down the stairs, just to pull the poor cat’s tail. I miss stepping on tiny, green left out army men blending in with the carpet with my bare feet and tripping over Barbie and her entourage in the hallway.
And If I have to listen to anymore of this quiet, I’m gonna pull my hair out and go running down the street, babbling like an idiot. I miss my little ones. I knew it was going to be a change. But for heavens sake, no one said it was gonna be this hard. Who am I supposed to take care of and fix pb&j sandwiches for, not to mention talk to while they are gone…the cat?