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Beds, fruckers, and cleaning

Updated on June 26, 2017

Beds, fruckers, and cleaning

1/2/15 9:10 am

I woke up knowing today’s the last day I’ll get to sleep in. After today, back to 530 am. I walked out to the living room and two blonde children are asleep on one couch. The issue?

They both got new beds for Christmas, Hayhay got the Bunny’s bed and the bunny got a platform bed. Hayhay hasn’t slept in the bunk bed yet. It’s been a week. The bunny has slept on the floor while Hayhay slept on the platform bed. I can’t say I’m not aggravated, but I’m trying to be calmer, gentler, and more understanding.

Deep breaths. Calm, blue ocean. Yeah, OK. That’s working.

I’m pretty proud of myself. I got up, brushed my teeth, made my coffee blended with coconut oil in it. It’s supposed to be better for you, make you feel more full for longer and give you more energy. I don’t know about all that, but I do know it’s a pain in the butt to clean.

Usually I would say something else but I’m trying to cut back my blue streak. It’s no secret I have a mouth like a mechanic, sailor and a trucker.

Well, baby t Rex has been saying a four letter word that sounds like hit and stands for poop. At least, that’s what it sounds like. I never had a problem with the bunny, it was getting her to say anything that was the problem.

She had problems with the TR sounds, so tree was free and trail was frail and truck was fruck. Her dad was a truck driver at the time and her daycare teachers had a great sense of humor. So much so they thought it was hysterical to have her say, “Daddy’s a frucker.”

He’s my ex now and while I’m sure I’ll unload eventually, now is not the time. I’m trying to do better even with that baggage.

I’ve started putting together my household notebook. It’s supposed to help me keep track of routines, schedules, and everything else to help the house run smoothly. Well, since I don’t have a printer, all it’s done has given me writer’s cramps. But I’m getting ideas and tips on how to get this train wreck of a house cleaned up and organized.

It definitely helps that baby t Rex is mesmerized by sesame street. That gives me an hour in the morning and an hour in the afternoon to clean up. I have no delusions of spotless tables or pristine floors, but being able to put a cup on a table, finding the remote, and walking without something crunching under my feet would be nice.

Right now, baby t Rex needs snuggled so we’re curled on the love seat watching Elmo while he plays with my fingers. And that’s ok.


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