The Pretenders

Oh, dear. I'm 2 days late on my Wednesday project.

Better never than late, right?

Or is that better late than never? I'll go with the latter.

We've had an eventful week with a house full of people. It was fun. But kind of threw the schedule off a little. So I'm going to pretend that today is Wednesday. Now, Now. I know how you all love your Fridays, so this will be for just a few minutes, 'kay?

I'm so great to be sticking to my schedule (pretending over here) and getting my project done. Don't you wish you were as motivated as me (still pretending)?

My project is something that I've been wanting to do for a looooong time! Aren't they all, though?

Anyways, I'm so irritated that my children can't put their toys away in an orderly manner. Is it too much to ask that all the Littlest Pet Shops go in one bin and all the cars in another? All the blocks in one and Barbies in another? Am I the only one in this house that embraces this new-age philosophy?

A few wards ago I was put in charge of the nursery. Felt the same back then, too. So I took matters into my own hands and made labels for all the bins with pictures of the item that belonged in each of them. It worked out really well. The kids knew where everything went and I didn't go into cardiac arrest every time we had clean-up.

But have I done this in my own home?

Noooooooo. Why would I? My children share my genetic make-up and should therefore have know all the rules automatically since the time they were toothless blobs of skin and giggles.

Main Problem: They also share Curtis' genetic make-up. He can't even get the milk back into the fridge. They were doomed from the very beginning.

Drastic means call for drastic measures. Therefore I present:

Labels on Toy Bins!!!

Printed. Laminated. And attached.

I hope it works because I can't go on like this.

I'll keep you posted.

(Back to being Friday)

Hooray, it's Friday!!!

To brookegfunk: Congrats on the new baby nephew! That kid is going to be the best dressed kid on the planet.