I'm being a bad mama

Well, sort of. As I'm writing this Vee and Ziggy are watching Little Einsteins. Yup, I'm ignoring them. My house has once again reached bio hazard status. Most of the dishes are done but you can't tell what color the counters are supposed to be. You can tell what we've had to eat for the last week though. The toilet was dirty for Easter because someone-2.5 feet, brown hair, undetermined eyes-hid the cleaning wand. I found it like Monday but still haven't cleaned the toilets. Half the food from the commissary is still in bags on the floor. I have a load of laundry sitting on the coffee table. It rained today and I had all the stuff from the last three times I emptied the car in the backyard, including an encyclopedia , kids books, my favorite (and only) brown shoes, toys, a purse and myriads of other flotsam that collect in the bottom of the giant roly-poly bug called our van. It's now sitting in the kitchen with the food. I won't talk about our bedrooms, which aren't too bad but definitely aren't the havens of serene peacefulness they're supposed to be. My cousin, whom we joke is Martha Stewart with brown hair even though she has four kids, saw my room at Easter-it was even worse then-but she was kind enough not to say anything. Thanks Sarah! Actually she said she wouldn't mind a two story so she could do the same thing. She seemed very impressed with my wicker baskets which I try to use to lug all the displaced junk at least to the proper floor. It looks classier than the plastic laundry baskets. And my friend is dropping ClaireBeth off around 1 or so. Oh well. The illusion will be shattered I suppose. Maybe she'll see the real me and we'll become even better friends because there are no secrets between us anymore. As if. She'll probably just want to make sure she has her shots before she takes the girls again.