Recovery

I'm wearing my glasses today. Letting my eyes rest from wearing contacts and staying up too late talking, or working hard searching snowy roads for icy patches late at night.

My hair is in a ponytail to give it a break from the blow drying and styling it receives daily.

I'm wearing my old jeans because all my nice pants are in the washer.

Speaking of clothes, the laundry room is piled high with stacks of clean laundry waiting to be folded. The washer and dryer have been going all morning and they're not done yet.

Our bed is un-made and stripped of it's linens, waiting to be made up with fresh clean sheets.

The baby is clean but her hair isn't done and she's wearing a purple monkey t-shirt with her sweat pants that are just a little too big.

We're recovering.

Justin had a mini-vacation and was home from work all last week. It's been great for him to have a break and Audrey and I have loved having him home. The only problem with that is that I don't like to clean while he's here. That's why I clean my house on Friday instead of on the "special day", Saturday, like the primary song says. I don't like to take time away from hanging out with him to scrub the bathroom.

So I don't.

I prefer to let the house go to chaos and spend time talking and watching movies and cooking and shopping and dreaming up whatever else we're going to do. A week of that, plus Christmas, means my house is a total mess.
Justin went back to work today. Walked out the door this morning looking dapper in his new shirt and tie. He's only working Monday and Tuesday and then has another long weekend for New Years, so today and tomorrow I'm rolling up my sleeves and getting to work. I need to vacuum and sweep and mop. I need to dust and wash and scrub. The bathroom towels need a bath themselves and the oven needs to be wiped down inside and out. I need to catch up on laundry from our trip and find a place for the kitchen set and stuffed animals and all the other toys from Santa that I've been tripping over all weekend. I need to do some wholesome cooking and get something in the fridge besides the leftover fudge and coconut candies that are sitting in there right now.

I'm a little excited. A clean house makes me happy.

So, if you knock on my door anytime during the next two days don't be offended when I don't answer. I'm either upstairs in the bathroom on my hands and knees scrubbing the tub and can't hear the doorbell or I'm hiding in the kitchen because you've caught me mid-sweep in my old jeans and glasses and ponytail.