Grrrrrrr

Ok - so I know the title of this post is the complete opposite of my previous post, but so what?  Grrrr.  That's how I've felt for most of the day.  Not sure why.

Woke up feeling lethargic and unmotivated.  Felt like snapping at everyone and probably did.  Also feel like my family was steering clear of me today, as well they should have.  This is the me I don't care for very much.

Every now and then I get into these funks, where the dirt and clutter that seems to surround me suddenly takes on new dimensions and completely consumes me.  "I can't stand living in this pig sty!" I hear myself mutter as I angrily pick up everything that has been casually tossed onto the floor, the table, the counter, the couch, etc, etc, etc, all the while grumbling about how I DON'T HAVE TIME TO CLEAN UP AFTER EVERYONE ELSE!   Then whichever child happens to be standing nearby bears the brunt of my wrath.  Today Ella was the unfortunate one and it resulted in her being forced to clean up the playroom - otherwise known as the fifth bedroom that has become the dumping ground for everything that does not have a place in this house.  I give her credit - she quietly started cleaning up and now you can actually walk around in there without stepping on Barbies and doll clothes.

I went for a run with Penny, thinking perhaps this would shake up my mood.  It didn't do much but to remind me how unenergetic I was feeling.  We kept stopping to walk and finally I decided to just enjoy the fresh air and to stop thinking about whether I was getting any real exercise.  The last ten minutes of the outing were quite relaxing as Penny and I just walked and sniffed our environment.  Oh, and of course I was carrying a bag of warm poo, so my sniffing was at a minimum.

Now I'm sitting here thinking about the fact that my daughter has not showered in days and that I have somehow let her get away with this slovenly habit. That's it. I'm putting my foot down. In five minutes I am throwing her into the bathtub whether she likes it or not. My son takes a shower every single morning. My little girl would never bathe if I didn't say anything about it. Why is this? Enlighten me. I don't remember being this filthy as a child, but maybe my mother didn't let me get away with it. Sometimes it's just laziness on my part. If I see that she's already gotten dressed it seems like too much work to make her undress and take a shower. Mother of the year, that's me.

Ok - pulling myself up out of this rut and moving forward.  Onward and upward . . .