So, help me understand something.
Why is it that when MOMMY is sick, no one does a damn thing around the house?
My house was social worker clean yesterday. We had our home study for the adoption of my stepdaughter yesterday. We passed with flying colors, and I can only assume it's not because I'm a decent parent and shit. Oh, no. It was because my house was SPOTLESSLY clean for the social worker to view. As in - she could have even opened closets and cabinets and not been pelted by an avalanche of crap. I was so proud!
And in a scant eight hours, my children destroyed it.
My kitchen is a mess.
My living room is a mess.
Their rooms are trashed again.
WHISKEY. TANGO. FOXTROT.
Seriously, this is horrid. Mommy just went on a congested hissyfit streak. They're now doing the dishes. And I may or may not kill them.
Have I mentioned that I'm overly dramatic and bitchy when I'm sick?
the misadventures of a professional woman trying to find the elusive work-life balance
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