I cooked dinner for my children. Earlier today, they were driving me batty (I'm PMS-ing really bad), so I cleaned the living room (not spotless, but pretty damn good) and packed them all into the carriage and went for a long walk. We went to Elm Park, saw both families of baby ducks (confirming for me that there are two families, not just the same one I saw twice), and then I bought them ice cream. Walked home, all was well, then I decided to cook. So I cooked dinner, talked to Annie and Becky on the phone, and just wandered back into the living room to find an oh-my-God disaster. How does that happen so fast??? You literally can't see more than six inches of floor. There are figurines, stuffed animals, overturned laundry baskets, dress up clothes, clean diapers and pull-ups liberated from their drawers and tossed around the play corner. The shelving unit itself has been dismantled and the little drawers are being used as boats, I think.
I'm simply ignoring it. I've got another few minutes until Marc comes home, and I'm just going to pretend the room doesn't exist.
It hasn't been a great day.