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Once again I’m standing in the middle of the room, looking around at the disarray my son and his playful energy has left me to clean up. I sigh. I’m so tired of cleaning up. I really am. I’ve done more cleaning up within the past year then in most my life. Did I mention I’m tired of it?
The issue isn’t the actual cleaning itself, which can be annoying, no the issue is with the frequency of cleaning. Everyday I start off cleaning only to end my day also cleaning. On the weekends it’s an all day process if I stay inside with my son. Otherwise it’s a process after my son goes to sleep.
I just can’t leave the clutter of toys, clothes and whatever else my son wanted to throw on the floor. Yes, visually it bugs me, but it’s more about not having to step on a toy car one more time….I just can’t…so I clean. But now its getting a bit out of hand.
I swear it’s great fun to my son to wait till I’m making up the bed to climb all over it and pull the sheets out. He does it every time. What bugs me is that he only does it to my bed and not his own. Nope. His bed stays nice and clean. My bed gets cookie crumbs, juice stains and little dirty feet jumping on it. Still, today I realized that I’m tired of cleaning up.