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The Legend of Tarzan

The wear and tear on our house over the last two months has been excessive. Normally, I have a chunk of time during the day when the kids are all off at school to clean. Some days that may mean a quick tidy, while other days it means getting out the bleach and scrubbing tile grout. Either way, I felt a sense of control over the complete disarray that regularly materializes in our house. But now, any effort to curtail the chaos is fruitless.


I've come to terms with the toys EVERYWHERE. (Drink) And every so often I get motivated and clean a bathroom or spray down a counter top. It is also widely known now that I vacuum a lot. It's not so much the clutter or filth that's getting to me. It's the rapid deterioration of fixtures and walls and carpets that's putting me over the edge.

I know what you're thinking - why on earth does a couple with five kids have a white carpet? The truth is, I'm partial to no carpet - maybe an area rug here and there, but then I go dark and patterny. I would never voluntarily have a white carpet, but the previous owners of our house offered (drink) it to us for free, so we took it, figuring we'd get a year or two out of it. Now, not even six months in, the stains are accumulating and as the weather improves and dirty feet trek their way through the house, I'm thinking we were over-optimistic in our (drink) estimated carpet lifespan.


Then there's the cabinet knobs. Why do kids hang on them? Seriously, they're like Tarzan swinging not just on cabinet knobs, but door knobs, towel bars, oven handles...anything with screws that could come loose if overburdened. Which swinging Tarzan-style will do. I'm constantly tightening screws, but then they get stripped and (drink) it makes me nuts.

Finally, there's the walls. This is the real killer. Fingerprints and scuffs I get. But footprints? WTF?

Thank God for Magic Erasers. I buy the generic brand in bulk on Amazon and they work wonders. See what I did there? I endorsed another product. Look at me go!


Here's a product I'll never endorse - finger paint. Or any crafty paint for that matter. I hate it. At the beginning of quarantine, I put on my supermom cape and in an overzealous attempt to (drink) make lemonade out of lemons, I actually suggested a finger painting activity. I think that was my first meltdown of of the lock down. It was a disaster and I (drink) hid the finger paints and never spoke of them again. Several times since, the twins have pestered me to take them out of hiding, and each time I've distracted them to get out of it. "Ow! My toe!" I exclaimed after one request. Injuries are always a good diversion. Another time, I suddenly remembered I had bought cookie mix. Yes, I would rather bake cookies with my kids than finger paint. That's how much I hate painting.


For the last few days, though, Eleanor hasn't taken the bait. She hasn't let up about painting and (drink) has batted her eyelashes enough times to make me cave. It was a nice day, so I took the opportunity to destroy my driveway rather than my kitchen table. Guess what doesn't go well together? Wind and kids painting in the driveway. Then they discovered splatter painting. I'm still finding little splatters in my hair.

But I figure I've paid my dues for a few weeks at least so I'm thankful that's behind me. And I avoided more wear and tear on the house. I'll (drink) consider it a win for the day.

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