51 & 52 - scrubbed clean

The worst thing about vacation is coming home. Now, we are all familiar with the manifold of references of this exclamation. One is the putting away and cleaning. I left the house dirty. So it took several hours over three days to complete the putting away, washing, and scrubbing the bones of this abode. Alas, breath in, yummy smell of vinegar and lemon. Fresh. When making a quilt, the Amish are perfectionists. Their work is so meticulous. Yet, they humble before God with a humility block. One block is backwards, upside down, or slightly off color. Everything, clothes, towels, sheets, all of it is washed. Laundry still looms in a invasive blob on the floor. It will be done by the close of this eve. Two bags will be packed for our next two adventures. My humiliy spot is the powder room rug. It is filthy. It shyly slipped by my notice until mopping. I bow to you./ ......A surprise arrived while we were away at the lake, my sister and nephews. She showed up on Wednesday. We enjoyed pizza, ice cream, a walk, backrubs, and the cousins laughed a ton. We enjoyed each other's company so much that it was nine o'clock before I noticed my kids should be in bed! Consecutively, my cell phone rang. I forgot Mom's Night Out. Yep, they will go on in the night so come on over. Goodbye hugs commenced, kids are swept off into their jammies, popped into bed, foreheads kissed and mommy is off for some friend time. Apparently, kids didn't pass out at 9:45 and woke their dad. So it was a good thing I left a note on the table of where I was. Midnight battmitton was well worth the rush. Thanks for calling me ladies...I just forget stuff./ ..... Day three of cleaning, the downstairs. Check. Yoga with kids. Then home to finish last list items of the cleaning that I hope lasts for two weeks because it is awefully exhausting. Dad Parent takes kids to pool for two hours of over drive. Rose bush trimmed, powder room cleaned, kitchen sorted, fish bowls cleaned, fish very happy, laundry all dried and piled, and wow, I need a maid. Dinner out, thank you Hubby! And back by six. She is early! Six twenty, the photographer for Cure Today magazine arrives. Good thing I spent an hour in the morning e-mailing pictures of my outfit choices to my closest friends. Outfit number three, coordinate running knee pants and top, won. An hour spent doing Yoga poses, pretending to tie my sneakers, walking away from the camera and looking over my shoulder, wishing I had grand, flowing locks to toss over my shoulder instead of a grey militant buzz, and kids wondering into the scene wanting their images taken too. This survivor is ready to sit. Apparently, after a week of staying up until nine or ten o'clock at night, a six and eight year old are NOT going easily to La La Land. And now, it is ten forty one. The laundry pile and bags to be packed loom in my ditant future. I wonder if I can stretch that future into Tomorrow Land. Night.