Didn't sleep well last night, and every morning lately I've been waking up at 5 am. ACK! Well this morning I decided to get out of bed and be productive before the rest of the house was up. By 6:15 I had the livingroom and hallway swept and Murphy's on the floors. By 6:20 I realized that my floors need MUCH more attention, and I'll be calling my sissy, the expertive on wood floors, later this morning. Since she lives in Cali, the urge to call her at 6:20 am my time was subsided by the knowledge that I would be cussed out for waking her up at 4:20 am with questions of proper wood floor maintenance.
The household is up by 6:30 and ready to rock and roll by 7:15. Poptarts and chocolate milk for breakfast for the little ones (oh yeah, I'm a health nut) and the big one eats at school (at least she says she does). Andy doesn't do breakfast, so his routine morning coffee was enough for him.
I run to 7-Eleven to get cash for the teen b/c the mom of the year forgot she had to turn in her money today for their field trip to Arbuckle for a vocal competition.
We get Baby Love and Monkey Boy all tucked into their carseats, the teen ready to roll with her cappuchino money in hand. I move the polly-cart to the side of the house (trash day was yesterday) and politely remind Andy our house is a pit because we don't put thinks away after we are done with them. Hug and kiss everybody and Andy drives away.
I'm in a good mood! Normally I'm a grouch in the mornings, and I figured since I was up before the buttcrack of dawn today, I would be extra grouchy. Not the case...
Until I walk back in the house.
Poptart crumbs all on the floor in the newly swept and mopped livingroom. Grrrr!
While I'm sweeping that back up, I notice that half the kitchen cabinets are open. Grrrr!
Seriously... why does that happen? I mean, does it take that much more effort to close the damn cabinet than it did to open it? I sent Andy into the kitchen to make his own lunch this morning b/c I had to run to the ATM. Normally this is my job. I like it. Feels like I'm doing something special for him and he appreciates it...at least I tell him he appreciates it. I pack a lunch with sides (usually leftovers), an orange, a tangelo, and a small container of this powder fiber crap that he thinks he needs lol. Today I do a bag check and he's got a hamburger patty with cheese over it, no sides and no fruit. But he didn't forget his damn fiber! So I get him a small baggy of chips and throw it in there and he tells me he's got an orange left at work. Whatever. He just didn't want me to know he can't pack a lunch.
Anyway... I'm in the kitchen, closing all the open cabinets and then I notice every damn light in the house is on, along with every TV.
It never ends.