"M" is for Mom, not Maid...

I saw a sign yesterday that said "M" is for Mom not Maid!...and it struck me as sort of funny. I believe in my heart that there isn't a mother alive that hasn't at some point gritted her teeth and thought the very same thing. I wish someone would buy me this sign, it would be the first thing people could see when they entered my kitchen.

I, for one, am pretty worn out right now. Sometimes I think I will positively go insane if I walk into the house *one more time* and see the sink filled with dirty dishes (although there were none when I left for work earlier that morning). I look at the counter tops covered with pitchers of tea, juice or milk that are now warm because they have been left out for hours. I notice the splotchy red Koolaid dust & water stains on nearly every surface. I glance at the mail that has been tossed into the decorative basket that is supposed to contain only fruit, along with some skittles that have spilled open, two paperclips, a half-licked dum-dum sucker, and 1 pair of mystery earrings. Oh, and the scissors that I was looking for yesterday that "nobody" knew anything about.

The bread that was used to make lunch is also on the counter, bag wide open and is now basically the equivalent of large croutons. (*sigh*...I just bought that...) The knife that was used to spread the peanut butter and jelly is stuck to the counter. It will take another knife to pry it off. Possibly some 409. The jelly...with the flip-top cap that won't flip down anymore because it is coated 4 inches thick with jelly goo sits next to the knife, which sits next to the twist tie for the bread, which is a few inches from some chip clips....

Heyyyyy look...some Cheetos, also left open for who knows how long, (mental note...avoid the cheetos) along with a bag of pretzels that have spilled onto the floor, some of which have rolled into some spilled Koolaid stickiness located in front of the refrigerator . I love nothing more than walking around listening to crunching beneath my feet. What did you say? Sorry, I can't hear you...my feet are making too much noise!

Near the sink, but not in the dishwasher, because that is full of clean dishes that I asked someone to unload, are 9 glasses that have been used in the course of one afternoon, two of which have NuttyBuddy wrappers stuffed inside them, one has some Goldfish crackers mixed with...what is that....dirt?...along with various other bowls, plates, used paper plates that should have already been thrown away, a protein drink shaker, and a cutting board that has that has a pungent fishy smell. (mmm...nothing makes a house smell more homey than recently gutted fish juice).

The newspaper, not yet read, has bonded to the kitchen counter from Koolaid being sloshed out; apparently whoever made it couldn't find the lid to the pitcher. (Lid? What lid? Are you sure it has one?) When I eventually scrape the paper off, it leaves the print, so if I want to read it, a trick mirror will be involved, somehow.

There are no less than 5 pairs of shoes scattered about, 2 underneath the kitchen table, 1 underneath the counter bar holding down two empty sliced cheese wrappers, 1 muddy pair (at least I hope it's mud, and not dog poo) that should have been left outside and 1 pair that I nearly break my neck on trying to make a run for the bedroom to hide.

I know somewhere in the vicinity, I have a *naked* 3 year old boy. His underwear and shorts are laying near the overflowing garbage can (guess that is why they didn't throw the paper plates or cheese wrappers away), next to two police cars, one boat (and trailer), a firetruck, a wiffle ball, and two pirate monsters.

I haven't even walked into the living room yet, and I am very nearly ready to bolt. But I don't. At least I haven't yet.

I have tried a myriad of approaches in gaining my families cooperation in picking up after themselves. Begging, pleading, bribing, threatening, nagging, asking, crying, color coded chore charts (with "attaboy! stickers"), and the best I will get is a couple of weeks compliance and then it is back to what I wish was an exaggeration above.

I really think it is time to get tough. Or creative. muwahahaha. Having put some thought to the situation...what about following?

Leave your shoes laying around all over the house? They will be tossed out of whichever door I am nearest to. I hope for your sake, it doesn't rain. Want to leave garbage on the counter because you are too lazy to take out the trash? If I have to remove it, I am putting it wherever you spend the most time. Don't want to put your dishes in the dishwasher, because you are too lazy to unload it? Cool...I am putting the dirty dishes, including peanut butter encrusted knives on your pillow. Think of it as a "sleepover". Want to leave articles of clothing strewn about the house, instead of placing them in the laundry room, or putting them away? No worries, I am going to use them to clean the stains off of my counters and floors. I hope they are bleach tolerant. Want to make Koolaid, spill it on every surface and leave it for me to clean up? Again, not a problem. I do the shopping and the only liquid substance you will find in the house for 6 months will be tap water. mmm...good tap water.

These are of course, extreme, and I really don't want to have to do any of it. But I will. If I am going to be treated as a maid, instead of a mom, then I will be a maid with a very bad attitude. :)