Tag Archive: ask the readers

Mind dump.

This post is exactly what you think it is. Brace yourselves.

  • Hubby is away until Thursday night. He’s in Florida until then. In fact ,as we speak, he is attending his Uncle Frank’s funeral. Not what we expected to be doing this week… apparently he had high blood pressure. No one knew, he hadn’t been treated for it. Please, folks – go for a yearly checkup with your doctor.  Meanwhile, I’m single parenting it until he gets back.. but not really. Uncle J (who is not really an uncle, but DaddyGeek’s best friend from childhood, who moved here last year and who is also Geeklet’s Godfather) has been a huge help. I mean, above and beyond. Seriously. He shoveled a space for my car at the apartment complex. Just for us. He helps with the kids, he helps get Geeklet to sleep and puts up with the incessant questioning and requests by Cupcake. He cleaned my kitchen. He cleared the snow off of our second car, which we aren’t even using this week, just so we didn’t have to do it later. He takes the trash out. He’s been awesome. Last night my mother did a whole judgy-thing about why he was there helping… apparently I’m not allowed to have help? I don’t know. Whatever – he’s been awesome, she can keep her opinion to herself. Things could have been far less awesome this week. For example, I could have had to deal with my massive head cold, the girls’ massive head colds, plus Cupcake’s puking on Sunday night 4 hours after DaddyGeek’s plane took off all by myself. But I didn’t. Mother can judge away, but the kids are doing better for J being around.
  • Work. Work work work. There is a lot of it and I am barely keeping my eyes open after the kids go to sleep, so projects have been moving more slowly than I’d like. Thankfully I punched out a lot of work last night and today, so I’m nearly back on track. I don’t see it letting up this month at all. Oh, PS — did you know January is ALMOST OVER?!
  • I got a new planner. It’s a GTD planner, and I love it, and it’s helping me be organized, and I love love love it. Seriously. Love. It. I’m usually a digital gal but I truly enjoy literally penciling something in. Or, penning it in. I hate pencils. It’s a texture thing.
  • I am behind on blog reading, and I feel sorely out of the loop. It’s making me cranky. I have over 350 unread posts that I can’t get to. Also, my fishes, farm, deserted island, restaurant, cafe, zoo and pet on Facebook are feeling neglected. (lol)
  • Taxes soon. I do taxes for my whole family (incl. brother, mother, sister, us) and I am not looking forward to all. those. fucking. numbers. I hate numbers. Speaking of taxes, next years taxes are going to be all sorts of borked. Also I have to start setting aside money for estimated tax payments. Not fun, y’all!
  • I have about 4 posts planned in my head about songs that are meaningful to me, but I never get around to writing them.. I really should, because they are cluttering things up. Do you care about songs?
  • I’m pissed at Mother Nature for starting 2010 off with the Haiti Earthquake. I’m pissed there isn’t more I can do.
  • I finally decided I really do need to stop eating such disgusting food and do something about my weight, and my health, and my general fitness. I ate four donuts yesterday morning. FOUR. And another today, even though it was stale. Not good. So for lunch I had a Lean Pocket. It was hardly satisfying.. though could have been worse. I wanted to eat two. I ate one. Now if I can just keep that up, I can lose the baby weight, which is no longer baby weight, and is actually pastry weight, but saying pastry weight doesn’t sound as legit so baby weight it is.
  • Speaking of babies, I don’t have any anymore. I have two toddlers. Geeklet is 14mos now and is walking and running and climbing and doing things she shouldn’t do, and saying things like “ceiling” and “nana” and “daddy” and “yes” and she thinks it is funny, oh so funny, when you shake your head yes or no at her. She also loves: spinning, trying to eat lightbulbs, the TV clicker, anything that is electronic that she isn’t allowed to have, mashing the keyboard. Cupcake is 3.5 and is amazing. She’s getting ready to be rid of her bedtime bottle (no judging you whore) and we are so close to really getting somewhere with this potty training (again with the lack of judging!) and bedtimes have been better on a whole. She is saying adorable things, and her favorite joke right now is to substitute the word “underwear” anywhere in a sentence unexpectedly to make you laugh. She also loves jumping around, playing tag with herself, saying grown-up things like “You can say that again!” and “Oh brother!” and she knows how to work the DVD player. She also DM’d @chibijeebs for me the other day, which was oh so sweet of her. (lol)

Since I can’t get over to your blogs/twitter/whatever why don’t you tell me in the comments what’s up with you?

Delurker Day {because I love you}

So, we’re mostly all bloggers here. Not all of you blog, I’m sure, but a good deal of you do, in fact, bloggity blog blog your little heart away. And that means you’ve probably played that game where you look at your Feedburner stats, and your various page rankings, and your visitor tally from your stats, and the number of average comments on each post, and grabbed a calculator and a calendar and your old grammar school math textbooks in a desperate attempt to figure out JUST HOW MANY PEOPLE are reading. Because it matters, even if it’s only a little. We want to know. We’re putting ourselves out here, we want to know!

So.

I’m totally joining in on Rude Cactus’ Delurking Day 2010 today and asking – if you read here, regularly or sporadically, just say Hi in the comments. :) If you want to say more, cool. If you are a person of few words, that’s fine too. And if you have a blog that is public? PuhLEASE tell me about it, mkay?

delurker2010

Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman

britney-spearsI identify strongly with Britney Spears. Not in a show-my-hoochie-cuz-I-don’t-wear-panties way, or a crazy-behavior-for-shock-value way. I identify with her as a singer, a performer, a young girl, who is desperately trying to find her way in this world. I followed, and still follow, news stories about her closely. I read the gossip mags looking for a shred of truth, I listen to the lyrics of her songs, I buy her albums and I wonder, often, what it would be like to live her life.

Let’s lay it out in black & white:

Similarities:

  • We are both in our late 20s – in fact, we’re about a year apart in age
  • We are both singers (though, admittedly, she is more of a performer than songstress)
  • We are both dancers (though, admittedly, I haven’t danced in years and I am nowhere near as good)
  • We both married early
  • We both have two children (hers boys, mine girls) around the same ages
  • We both have divorced parents
  • We both gained a little weight after having kids (Gasp, normal!)
  • We both have our belly buttons pierced

Differences:

  • Clearly, I am not a celebrity, and therefore, I don’t have the stress (and yes, fun) that comes with that
  • I’m not divorced
  • My mother or father are not acting as conservator of my affairs, my life
  • I haven’t been married more than once
  • No one has taken my children from me
  • I haven’t been forcibly hospitalized
  • She had a personal trainer to help her lose weight and look HAWT again

The differences seem so clear until I look more closely. What is that list, really, except a list of chance? The lines get blurred when I wonder if I were somehow catapulted to stardom at a young age, who is to say that I wouldn’t eventually crumble under the pressure, using my behavior and words to desperately reach out for help from someone, anyone? Who can say that I wouldn’t go a little bit crazy from untreated depression? I’ve been there, depressed, horribly depressed. My family helped me. What if my family weren’t so aware of my depression? What if I were surrounded by an environment where it was not OK to be depressed, to have issues, to need help? What if?

When I look at stories of her from two, three years ago or more, I just see a scared little girl. I see someone screaming for help and I see the world capitalizing on it, ignoring the real message, judging. I want to scream at them – what if it was your friend? Your daughter? Your mother? Would you just sit back and watch or would you do something?

I look at her now and I see someone who, having received the help she needed, has gotten back on track. Who has accomplished more in her young life than I will likely ever accomplish. Who has gone through hell and back and who will hopefully be a better person for that experience. I see someone who needed family and friends to lean on.

That’s not so different than I. That’s not so different than any of us.

I’m sure it’s not just me. Who do you identify with?

Burnout

I am burning out. I need to find a balance between home, school, work, other work, kids, cleaning, laundry, relaxation. I can’t find it right now. I can’t find it right now, and I am burning out.

Three times in the past two weeks, I’ve just gone straight to bed as soon as the kids were asleep. Note: that’s unlike me. I like to stay up and do a little something. The problem is that it’s not that I didn’t have anything to do. I have plenty to do, too much to do, and I keep taking on projects.  I am hooking a fucking rug as a Christmas present for chrissakes. WHO THE FUCK HAS TIME FOR THAT?!

Part of it is the holidays. Part of it is just the regular ebb and flow of life.

Regardless, I still need to find balance. I need to stop jerking around to each part of my life, trying desperately to complete a task before I am pulled away again. I should be doing other things than blogging right now but I’m exploding. I need to get some of this out.

I need to breathe. I don’t feel like I have time to breathe. And when I find time, I don’t feel like I have the energy.

How do you do it? How do you balance? What do you have going on in your life? Write me a book in the comments, I don’t care. I want it. I need to know how you’re managing. Or not managing. I don’t want to be alone in this struggle.

Just a quick question for you –

If you’re reading this in your reader, could you click over? Pretty please?

Now, can you tell me how quickly this page loaded for you and (optionally) whether you like the design? Is it pleasing or confusing? Cluttered or clean? Did it load quickly or were you tapping your fingers impatiently?

Thanks in advance, kind readers. I want this to be a place you enjoy visiting, and I’ve had a lot of conflicting reports re: the speed of this site recently, so I thought I’d poll the audience.

xoxo ~ MommyGeek

Girls Rule, Boys Drool

We have two little beautiful girls – Cupcake and Geeklet. If you’re new around here, you may not know what Cupcake is 3.5 years old, and Geeklet is recently 1yr old. I love them to pieces – for all the usual reasons, but also because:

  1. You never have to worry about not having enough Reds to run a full load. Ever.
  2. No pee-pee tee-pees.
  3. They have the most *adorable* clothes. (Though honestly, nothing beats a 2 year old in a tux.)
  4. The shoe selection is much wider.
  5. They can wear all the colors, even the boy colors, and all you need is a bow to let the world know you’ve still got a GIRL here.
  6. The bows. Oh gosh, the bows. Headbands SQUEE!
  7. Frilly butts. On tights, pants, onesies, you name it. I LOVE A RUFFLE BUTT.
  8. Easily entertained with one doll, two dresses, and a pair of shoes.
  9. Easier potty training.
  10. Less likely to hear things explode when I’m not looking.

Do you have boys or girls? Why do you love it?

A General Rule

If you asked a group of 10 people whether “honesty is the best policy” you’d probably find that about 8 out of 10 say Hell Yes and give you a lecture about the dangers and treachery of lying, tangled webs and whatnot. I don’t necessarily disagree – I’m quite honest on this blog.

As a general rule in my life, I try to live by this motto: “If you have the balls to ask me, I’ll have the balls to answer you.”

Maybe that’s not a smart motto. And Lord knows I don’t always manage to live up to it – but I try. I’m human, fallible, and it’s all I can do. I have the hardest time being honest with my family – my mother, brother, and sister – because since I was a teenager it was always assumed I was lying. It didn’t matter – I was lying. Sometimes it seems like I might as well – I mean, dammit, I’m going to be accused of lying anyway, right? So yes, sometimes I do lie to my mother, my brother, my sister. I think we all do from time to time. Even beyond the “I’m fine!” response to “How are you?” in the grocery store while you have tears pricking the corners of your eyes, or “I love it!” when you unwrap that birthday present to find an adult-sized bubble-gum pink sweater with a crude unicorn crocheted in the center.

Sometimes it’s just *easier* to lie than to tell the complicated truth. But usually it’s not.

Sometimes, *certain members* of my family would rather hear the lie – because the truth would cause a rift too big to ever cross again. Sometimes the lie is what we need to tell ourselves to get ourselves through the next day.

I’ve thought about honesty a lot and I do try to ensure I am as honest as possible. I don’t know if you can tell from any of my more recent blog posts, but I’ve decided that I can feel safe here – in this space – I mean, might as well go for it right? If the blog is found by someone I don’t want to find it, and they share they with my family… well it’s not like I haven’t been honest. I can at least say that. I won’t lie here. These are my feelings. This is my life as I see it. You don’t like it? Go see something else. Am I right? (Yes, yes I am.)

So. With that said, I was pretty pleased to see that Colleen and then Psychmamma had given me a little bloggity blog award. I don’t usually get these sort of things, or participate in memes, but this one goes along with my theme here on ye olde blogge, so here it is:

HonestScrap

There are some rules for this award, but I’m not much for rules (unless I make them) so I’d like to do something a little differently. Normally, the rules are to say 10 honest things about oneself and pass this along to 7 others.

I’d like to challenge you.

I want you to write something completely, 100% brutally honest. If you can’t write it on your blog, but would like to get it up for the world to see, feel free to email me and I’ll post them anonymously here over the next week(or weeks, depending on how popular this is)(or isn’t, you might never see this again!)(or I could make shit up and post it anonymously. but that would sort of go against the essence of this huh?)(ok I won’t make anything up. I’ll leave that to someone funnier. Like Marinka. Hey, Marinka! This is a great idea for your next blog post!)

Write something honest. Post it to your blog. Comments on, comments off, I don’t care, but I want a link to it, dammit. If you don’t have a blog but want to own it, feel free to post it here in the comments. I may end up reposting your comment, so beware.

Hell even if you write it and save it as a draft and tuck it away in a dark, secret folder on your computer never to be opened again, just do it. This is a good exercise. And it’ll help get whatever is on your chest, off your chest.

I have a post started about my struggle with post partum depression that’s been sitting in my drafts folder for months. I am going to finish that post, however long it takes. And I promise you I will post it here as soon as I can.

Meanwhile, I will post 10 honest things about myself:

  • I hate loud chewers, lip smackers and people who swish the spit around in their mouth while eating. It makes me actually cringe. If I am sitting next to you at dinner and I start furiously digging at my ear with my finger, I am probably seriously annoyed by someone around us. If it’s just the two of us, it’s you. Stop eating. (just kidding on that last bit) (sort of)
  • I sing Backyardigan’s songs to myself when the kids aren’t around and I like it. One of my favorites is the Volcano Sister’s song, the one at the end where they almost blow up the volcano. That’s awesome.
  • I joined the Phineas and Ferb Wiki and read all about Dr Doofenshmirtz’s life.
  • I used to play the saxophone in middle school, but the only thing I remember now is Ode to an Orange.
  • I still don’t have my degree in anything, and a lot of the time that makes me feel like a gigantic failure.
  • The scars from my gallbladder surgery really bother me. It’s just three tiny incision points but they still bother me. One more thing about that region of my body that I despise. I even covered them with makeup the last time DaddyGeek and I had sex.
  • Sometimes I sweep the kitchen and then push all the dust and stuff under the stove instead of putting it in a dustbin and throwing it out.
  • I regret how little I remember of my life. I just have a bad memory. It’s depressing.
  • Sometimes I feel like all I do is bitch, and I hate that.
  • I like to take pictures of my feet when I’m in a random place trying to take pictures to “capture” the moment. I don’t know why. DaddyGeek makes fun of me for it and says I have a foot fetish. I do NOT have a foot fetish.

Gauntlet down.

#FAIL (alternatively titled: I am a Doofus sometimes)

It came up on Twitter yesterday, thanks to my darling husband and dear friend, that I can sometimes be a teensy weensy bit foolish. A doofus. A total #fail whale. I promised I’d blog about it because, well, it’s funny, and if I can’t laugh at myself then what can I laugh at?

The Toe Incident

Let me preface this  story by saying that I have a horrible fear of all things creepy crawly. I can’t help it.  I jump, I scream, I freak. My husband believes he might die in a car crash with me one day if I see a spider in the car because I’ll jerk the wheel into oncoming traffic. Our headline will read “Two Killed in Tragic(ally Funny) Car Crash – Spider in Custody for Involuntary Manslaughter.”

Right.

I don’t remember what day it was, or even what year it was. Suffice to say it was at least 6-7 years ago. I believe I was still living at home. (My memory is terrible, in fact it really bothers me that I can’t remember squat, so the fact that I remember THIS much is a damn miracle) My family (mother, sister, brother) usually congregate in the kitchen; it was almost literally the center of our home growing up. It was a small eat-in kitchen but it had a table and enough chairs for all of us. We would sit, and sometimes we would talk and read magazines and gossip, my mother, my sister and I.  Those were some of my favorite times.

One such day, we sat ’round the table just as we normally do. My sister to my left, my mother to my right. The table was likely stacked with mail, magazines and discarded jackets and the like. We each probably had a Diet Coke to sip as we chatted. I sat on the chairs that my mother has recovered countless times (even adult children make big messes) with one foot crossed underneath me and one leg facing forward. I still sit this way often. My feet were bare – a trait inherited from my mother. We love bare feet in our family.

We sat and talked, and it may be that we discussed creepy crawly things and I was on edge. It may be that we were talking about recent TV episodes and I had no reason to be jumpy. However the conversation fell out, I was listening to the gossip when I spied something out of the corner of my left eye.

Me, in my head: OH SHIT. IT’S A BUG.
Me, out loud:
[terrified screaming as I nearly leap out of my seat and bash my head on the ceiling cartoon-style]

My sister and my mother are also squeamish – my sister even moreso – and they asked with worried voices, panic creeping in at the edges: “What? What is it?”

Me:  Oh. It was just my toe.

At this point I realize that I should have just said it was a spider, because the guffaws, hoots and chuckles coming from either side of me were enough to make me realize I would never, ever live this down. I was almost right. I might have lived it down if it ended there.

Not even five minutes later, I see something out of the corner of my eye:

Me, in my head: OH SHIT. IT’S A BUG.
Me, out loud: [terrified screaming as I nearly leap out of my seat and bash my head on the ceiling cartoon-style]
Me:
Oh. It was just my toe. Again.

I expect my urn to have some sort of witty verse – maybe a haiku? – about how I scared myself with my toe. Twice. My own damn toe. TWICE. In the span of five minutes. TWICE.

The Car Incident

Stop rubbing your hands in glee, I can see you. No, I did not crash the car as a result of a spider. This is something entirely different. And, no, this is not the story of the time that I hit a snowplow with my car hard enough to break the plow off of the truck. In May. In New England. (i.e. No Snow.)

A few weeks ago I realized I forgot something in the back of the car. We have a Mazda 5, which is like a Soccer Mom Minivan Lite or something.  It fits our family well. I loved this car until it attacked me completely unprovoked. Now, I have to say my feelings are mixed. If my little Mazda 5 could speak, she’d probably remind me that we hurt the ones we love. I’d probably tell her she’s a bitch. But that’s neither here nor there.

To the point.

I went to the back of the car and opened up the hatch-back trunk. It’s a pretty tall hatch back and the way it’s designed it swings way out, but I’m a smart gal, so I know that I need to step back in order for it to keep from clipping me. I successfully sidestep the Indiana-Jones style obstacle and grab whatever I need out of the back. I step back, reach up, and pull down the trunk using the nifty little handle, but I make a critical mistake; in my rush to get back inside (it’s a bit rainy out) I pull it down too quickly and fail to evade the deadly downward path of the door.

Scrrrraaaape.

The door makes contact with the bridge of my nose, scrapes my glasses off my face and continues further down to the tip of my nose until I stumble back in a muddle of pain and hurt feelings. I thought you loved me! I hiss, and bend to pick up my glasses. They’ve landed lens-down on the pavement. They are badly scratched. You whore! I’m angry. My nose is throbbing. I wipe off my glasses but I am too distracted by the huge scratch right in front of my right eye to see clearly.

And that, my friends, is why I need new glasses.  As promised, Holly – a diagram, complete with stick figures:

wounded by my car

As you see by the above picture, entered into Evidence on 10/19/2009, I was brutally attacked by my car. I’m pretty sure this means my insurance company needs to pay for my new glasses. And the eye exam. And maybe some contacts. And probably a pair of prescription sunglasses too. And emotional distress.

So. I dare you to beat that. That’s right bitches – gauntlet down.

A Few Thoughts

This is one of those bullet-style random-ass posts that you probably hate. There are some interesting things going on in the blogosphere this week if you’d like something else to read – you can always see what Mommy Melee is doing (she’s posting every day, whether it’s about her new therapy habit or current events) or read a post by Backpacking Dad with his views on the changes by the FTC concerning bloggers. Or you could donate to baby Jaeli, whose family needs your help getting a few extra dollars (or $1,200) together to support her for the next week with screened breastmilk from a milk bank.  Can you skip coffee this afternoon and donate a few dollars? Hubby and I are skipping Starbucks on Friday and donated what we could. Please consider helping.

And now onto the random!

  • I had to stop receiving the Urban Dictionary’s word of the day email a few months back because they introduced me to a two-word phrase that I wish I’d never, ever heard. I can’t even type it here. I had to go take a snapshot of the definition, because if someone finds my blog by searching this phrase, I will cry and curl up into a corner. wordDo you see that disgusting phrase? Even worse is the example of it in a sentence. ::shudder:: And the worst part is that I totally used to do that, but for some reason calling it that makes me want to curl up and die a little, and I don’t know why. It just doesn’t sit well with me. So now I can’t blow my nose in the shower anymore.  Soon I bet they’ll ruin peeing in the shower and sex in the shower. (Oh you know you do it.)
  • Low carb diets can suck my butt. (But I totally admire @Messponential for sticking to hers)
  • I sort of regret undressing my website and revealing the geek beneath to everyone (i.e. designing on the live production site) but ah well. I’ll have to make time. It’s nicer to reveal a shiny new site, but I just don’t have the time damnit. Or something. OK that’s not a good excuse. I’m just a failure. {lol}
  • Someone on Twitter a few weeks ago ranted about how it’s spelled “dammit” and not “damnit” and now I’m self conscious about using either.  Note: Spell check agrees that “dammit” is the right spelling.  Food for thought, people. You’ll get nothing but quality here.
  • It has come to my attention in the last weeks that I am pretty oblivious to most of the drama that happens online. I’ve decided I like it that way

Kid Updates, because this is supposedly a “mommy blog” though you wouldn’t know it to read some of my more recent posts. Ahem. Can we spell “risqu é

” children?

  • Geeklet has started walking, crawling, etc. Yay! She’s walking! However, she has not stopped crying all fucking day every day. The pediatrician doesn’t see anything wrong, is defaulting to the “teething” diagnosis. I’m not even home with her and it makes the days hard – just hearing about it and knowing that my mother is going through the constant screaming, plus it’s causing issues with Cupcake – she wants more attention but it’s hard to accomodate that with a screaming baby in your ear. Except she’s not quite a baby anymore, she’s turning into a toddler, but still screaming.
  • It’s not all bad news, Geeklet also has started to say a few words (!!!). While she refuses to say Mama, we’ve definitely heard Dada, some variation on Thank You, “AGAH!” which means “Again!” and something that sounded like Cupcake’s name.  Thus it begins.
  • Cupcake is doing well overall but we are having some trouble with regressing (note: she has super annoying younger sister, did I mention that already?!) and some more trouble at bedtime. She vomited once because she was sick, maybe also because she was sick the second time (a few days later). Now she’s scared of it. My mother is convinced that she is scared of us – meaning myself and DaddyGeek – because she said something about throwing up, yelling and being scared. Right. So obviously we’re screaming at her before bed and she’s throwing up because she’s upset. She couldn’t be wrong or anything. She’s three. She can’t be confused, or not clear in her words. Right? RIGHT?! But my mother has a tendency to assume it’s us ruining Cupcake’s life by default. We’re obviously fucking her up beyond anything in the history of stuff that has ever been fucked up.  < /sarcasm>

Other Updates

  • DaddyGeek’s birthday was at the end of last week. He is awesome, and though I didn’t write a birthday post, or get him a card, or even manage to make him coffee in the morning, he knows that his gift is coming*.
  • There are a lot of geeky delicious things happening lately, including Google Wave, dipping my feet into complete website design, new Android stuff to dig through as well as Windows 7 – my new favorite Windows platform – and the up-and-coming Windows Mobile 7 which sounds freaking amazing. Definitely an iPhone / Android competitor, in my geeky opinion.

So. What are you doing this week? I want to hear allll about it.

* That’s a play on words. Did you catch it?

My house is full of clutter. HALP!

I don’t understand how we have so much crap and no place to put it. We’ve moved way too many times, purged way too many times, to have accumulated this much crap. I do not understand.

Unfortunately, my inability to understand how we got here does not actually do anything about the problem. So we have piles. Everywhere.

Someone help me. PLEASE! Because if I drown in clutter, I won’t be able to blog here anymore. And, obviously, that is some sort of national emergency.

Note: I iz cheep. Therefore, the gorgeous storage solutions look amazing, but I iz cheep, and therefore will not and in many cases, cannot buy them. Ha! I do love me some IKEA, and may be willing to invest there, but OMG I get a little bit scared when I look at the catalogue because there are so many choices.

So.

HALP!

Top of Fridge & Counter Clutter

Top of the fridge, and the counter the separates the galley kitchen from the rest of the apt. CLUTTER.

Office Clutter

Office area. We bought a bookcase but have done nothing with it. And that lamp isn't plugged in because I can't find the plug from all the CLUTTER.

Toy Clutter

Toys. EVERYWHERE. I bought containers, to, you know, contain them, but then we just have piles of overflowing containers. Not helping.

Laundry Clutter

Laundry Clutter. This is the WORST. Laundry is my Perry the Platapus.

Web Analytics