What to do, what to do . . .

I started out having a productive morning. Got up early enough to make the kids waffles with strawberries and whipped cream (the spray stuff doesn't count, I know, but today it does, okay?). I washed the dishes (more or less: more, meaning they're in the dishwasher or are drying on the counter; less, meaning  . . . meaning the exact same thing as more) and then headed out by 9 a.m. for a couple of errands. Oh, and I was dressed and showered as well, though not in that order.

Then I got home and by 10:00 my productivity ended. The kitchen now looks like this:

And my six-year-old just annihilated me in a game of Mancala. His exultation was great and only slightly humiliating. But it beats playing his father. My husband, love him to pieces and bits though I may, is the most competitive human being I know. We used to play backgammon when we were newly married--until I realized we would never be more than newly  married if we continued to play together. The game is now hidden under lock and key and we never speak of it. Ever. We also never speak of the time he played Trivial Pursuit with my family and just wouldn't give my sister credit, for crying out loud, for "It's a Mad Mad Mad World" when the answer (yeesh) was "It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World."

I digress. No surprise there.

I hate a messy kitchen. I can't think straight in a messy kitchen. I want to live in a magazine of a kitchen and not the reality of one, filled with dirty dishes and things that don't have a place because I can't think straight in a messy kitchen and figure out what sort of place those things should have! (Yep. That's a panic attack coming on. Thanks for noticing.) (And that 2-liter of Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi you're looking at probably isn't helping the nerves any, is it?) (Don't answer.)

I want to throw away most of what you see: the leftover waffles, the grapes that are just too sad looking today, the half-eaten banana (WHY oh WHY is an entire banana just too much for a person to eat? Please tell me. Seriously. It's a BANANA, not an entire buffet of fruit. A--one--single--banana!! Just eat the whole thing. Please.), the yellow eco-friendly cloths I bought that have been the bane of my existence because one they dry, you can't get them wet again without soaking them in hot water for what seems like days, those curtains. Ugh. Yes, even those curtains. Whoever lived here before us had them specially made, and I loathe them. I took down the ones that hung over the windows in our breakfast area, but I've never gotten around to taking these down. Why? Because. Okay. That's why. I'm easily distracted. Fine. I'll do it today. Enough with the nagging. Why do I hate them? Why such a visceral reaction to harmless, innocent curtains? Because they have pomegranates and pineapples on them. And big concord grapes and cherries. They annoy me. I can't explain it beyond that. I have nothing against fruit as a rule (except half-eaten bananas!!!!), but I already have fruit in my kitchen. I don't need fruit on my curtains. And they're pointed--pointing down to the sink, reminding me I should be there working and not here babbling. It's rude.

I know I should be cleaning the kitchen, but here's the thing: it's 12:30. My husband and two of my kids will be home any minute now, and they'll be eating lunch. And the kitchen will be torn apart again. Yes, I know this is what life is about: cleaning up the same mess over and over and over again. Okay, maybe life is about more than that, but it certainly involves repetitive clean-ups.

I made my bed this morning. That counts for something, too, right?

Yep. They're home now. Good thing I opted to babble instead of clean. I'm sure they'll all appreciate it.

As did you.

My point? I didn't have one. I'm gearing up for a week of having all four kids home with me during spring break. I needed a little manic stream of consciousness. Carry on. Enjoy your first full week of spring. And perhaps spring cleaning.