This Place is a Dump

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I think I'm finally on the downside of the Horrible Plague of Near-Death ... also known as the heinous illness that caused me to spend two days draped uselessly across various pieces of furniture. I don't know if it was the fever, or the sinuses packed with sludge, or the fact that even walking a few steps set my heart to racing like I was working out with Jillian Michaels - but it pretty much incapacitated me. I only got up to do the necessary things ... such as pee and clean up raisins (see yesterday's post, which - yes - I managed to hammer out through a feverish haze. But don't look if you're, like, eating right now).

And of course since my workaholic husband is working - a fourteen hour shift last night - he wasn't able to offer much in the way of help. He forfeited a few hours' sleep yesterday to watch the kids while I napped, which was sweet, but, well ... yeah. My nap came at a cost. Because anybody who's ever known a man knows that, while they can work double shifts and supervise crews and maintain complex technological equipment, they cannot simultaneously a.) watch children and b.) keep things relatively tidied up. I'm sorry, I know that's stereotypical and sexist and all that, but it's also true - at least in my case. So while Curtis did keep the children from losing limbs or poisoning themselves, the house took a beating. Little boys who are largely allowed run amok do not a clean environment make.

What's worse? Today I can actually smell. And what I can smell is not pleasant. It's two days' worth of stuffiness from the house being shut up because I was too cold to open the windows. The dog pee on the carpet that Curtis cleaned barely blotted with a paper towel. The litter box downstairs that hasn't been touched (by anyone but two pooping cats) in 48 hours. The nearly-overflowing trash. The stale unwashed dishes in the dishwasher.

And the clutter. Ohhh, the clutter.

All waiting for meeeeeeee! Joy and rapture!

Honestly, I'm still not feeling 100%, and I could use another day to recuperate. But let's be real. I've got three little kids trashing up the place. And the thought of yet another day of yuck piling up on top of the yuck that I already have to deal with? Makes me sick in and of itself.

I can't wait until my kids are all old enough to clean. I'm writing up their chore lists already. Bwahahaha!