I walked in the door at 10pm last night after a VERY long day. (I will admit that part of my long day was getting a massage...I really shouldn't complain all that much.)
I had walked Andrew to school in the morning (we are trying to wean him from the bus ride), went and got my massage, flew to pick up the boys from school, flew to Zachary's appt, flew back home just to fly back to work for 3 clients lasting until 9:30pm.
This is a relatively normal day. However, Kirby just went back to work after being out for about a month. I guess it was a blessing in disguise because when I came home last night I was amazed at what a disaster my house is. And this morning, of course, was no different.
You can see Andrew in the last picture, sitting happily in the middle of everything. AKA: the main culprit.
When we moved in here we established a rule: no toys downstairs. Zachary has a large bedroom of his own for his toys and Andrew has a playroom for all his things. The rule stayed in place for quite a while. Slowly but surely, one by one, the toys would make their way downstairs...If Andrew is watching a movie he needs the toy that goes along with that movie (Tommy Pickles for Rugrats, etc).
I realized this morning that while Kirby was home things worked a bit more smoothly. Of course, it was easier for him to have the kids clean up before they went to bed. Coming home after being at work all day the last thing you want to do is fight with the kids about cleaning up.
Ugh...time to get back into the routine of having two working parents. I think what I really need is a nap....