Martha Stewart I Ain't...

First of all, let me just say that I LOVE Martha Stewart's magazine. I like the pretty pictures, and I dream of having a home where every sheet set (if and when I own more than one) is neatly folded inside a coordinating pillowcase, where friends gather outdoors for a feast of "marin-aaah-ded" steak and fresh-squeezed lemonade, and where the cat isn't the only one who could, in theory, eat off the kitchen floor.

Yeah, right. No, I really do love that stuff, it's just that IT'S NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN. My perfectionist days are over, thank you very much; it only took two stints in outpatient therapy to figure out that those tendencies weren't exactly helping my depression. I'm not saying we live in a pig sty; it's just that my home isn't quite ready to be featured in Better Homes and Gardens.
I vacuumed today, which is good. I only found three dead spiders while I was doing that... does anyone out there know the equation for figuring out how many LIVE spiders that means there are in my house? I did dishes, too, and managed not to gag from the smell of the 2-week old bottle of formula I dumped down the sink. Yummy! As for the bathroom, I keep it as clean as I can, scrub the toilet and pray that people take my word for it that those are rust stains in the can and not the result of a combination of severe colon blow and poor housekeeping skills. Really.

It's not all my fault. I have a baby, and he keeps me busy. He also contributes to the mess. OK, maybe I shouldn't give him Cheerios in the living room, but he gets so much joy from dumping them all over the floor. He's learning about GRAVITY, people; who am I to take away that valuable educational experience?! Also, my vacuum sucks. Or rather, it doesn't suck. I almost cried the day I used my mom's itt-bitty "carpet sweeper" and found that it was approximately four-hundred eighty-three times more powerful than my full-size, upright vac. Yeah, I said vac. I'm down with the lingo, yo. So is it really MY fault if you can't walk across the living room carpet without emerging wearing socks coated in cat hair? No. Blame the un-sucking-ness of my vacuum. Thank you.

I do what I can. Yes, there's clutter, but nothing choke-able within reach of the little monkey's paws. Clothes are piled all over my dresser, but I have a pretty good idea of what's clean and what's not. Besides, I'd rather spend my time enjoying my baby's baby-hood than trying to keep his mess off the floor.

Oh... and writing my blog. That, too!