This is the part of Christmas that I don’t like.
I am currently sitting in my house staring at a pile of cardboard from boxes of toys that Evalyn for for Christmas, a billion piles of Christmas decorations waiting to be boxed up and put back into the storage room, a cupboard full of Christmas dishes that need to be swapped for our regular dishes, two piles of gifts that are looking for a home, and floors that are in desperate need of a good vacuum, swiffer and mop.
And yet, here I sit.
Looking at it all.
Wishing that it would clean itself up.
I was (not so) secretly hoping that if I gathered everything into tidy piles, the Dude would get the hint and box everything up and help it all find the way to it’s home. But, much to my chagrin, he got home from work last night feeling as though a truck ran over him, so I clearly could not bring myself to ask him to do it.
And now here we are, nearing the end of Eva’s first nap of the day and none of the piles have been touched.
Granted, I haven’t been entirely lazy this morning. I did make some phone calls, reorganize the baby’s armoire, make my bed, and sip away at a cafe mocha – but I have not even begun to tackle the daunting task of putting away.
I’m calling ALL Christmas Fairies to sweep in and put my house back in order.