18 Days to Go: Frayed Nerves

I guess it's adoption nesting, but I have characteristically begun a project that is much too much for me, and one from which there is no turning back.  Last week I decided I needed to find the other half of the baby monitor.  That one simple quest was the first step down a long road that would leave me in tears, boxes and debris all over the house, paying my kids to work for me, and missing half of my hair.  Where did it all go so wrong?



Okay, so I'm dramatizing a little bit.  But, looking for that monitor caused me to start going through boxes in the laundry room, which in turn made me disgusted at how messy and disorganized it was in there.  Our  laundry room is at the base of the stairs that lead from the main floor down to the basement, and it had become way-station for random things that didn't have an actual place in our lives anymore.  The laundry room is now functional, organized and tidy, but everything that was in it is now spread all over the basement.  Of course, once I realized that I was going to have so much crap everywhere, I figured I might as well empty out a few closets, the storage room, and get rid of all of the toys that the kids never play with anymore.  This afternoon, I told the boys that they could earn $5 each for helping me sort, and even though they didn't get too much done, at least it kept them from fighting with each other for a few hours.   I have made some progress, and I did finally find the second part of the baby monitor, but I really wish I had just gone out and bought a new monitor and not started with any of this.  I find myself wandering from room to room, looking at piles of things that need to be sorted, and then heading to the kitchen for a snack instead of actually doing the sorting.

And then today, in an effort to avoid working on this horrible project, I decided that I must have a haircut before we go to Africa.  I rushed over to the salon, where they were able to get me in right away.  I know I used the expressions "something different," and "fun," and my hair does look really different, but more funny than fun.  I know every woman has had a haircut that has made her cry at least once, but I really thought I was beyond that point in my life.  I mean, I know that a bad haircut ranks so low on the scale of bad things, but nonetheless, I was boohooing all the way home.  I'm over it now, but it was a pretty sad morning.

Anyway, here I am procrastinating again.  Back to work, and hopefully my next post will be a photo of a clean, perfect house!  (But don't be expecting a picture of my hair for a few months!)