She's a super cleaning freak yeeeeeeeeooowwow

I have become obsessed with clean. My house is in a perpetual state of perfection. The plants are gettting watered on a regular basis. Each picture frame dusted. Arranged for maximum viewing pleasure. Dishes are washed and either in the dishwasher or stacked neatly in the cupboard. Children's toys are out, yes, but in a Pottery Barn photo shoot kind of way. AND THEN...

My bathroom. sigh. It's, what's the word I'm looking for, a toxic waste dump. There's three words for you. I really don't know what my psyhcological block is to keeping my bathroom clean. After all it's the most disgusting place in the house right? It's where we do all of our dirty work. Maybe it's because I don't spend much time in there LOL!!!!!! uggghh I crack myself up.

Here's the awful truth folks. I think if a number of subjects I want to write about each day and as soon as I sit down to my computer they fall out of my head and I just check my email and walk away. I could tell you how my neighbor and I are now getting along but I think she is using me to vent on about the third party in our Wisteria Lane triangle. Or I could tell you about my OTHER neighbor who I am terrified is going to touch my kids innapropriately after she told me she "can't say she wasn't touched by her father" ew. I really didn't want to know that. Or maybe I did...Or I could tell you about my OTHER neighbors who clean as a TEAM! and I think it's really sad. Or I could tell you how it took me WEEKS to make a decision to book my tickets to Seattle because I went over and over in my head whether I wanted to a) spend the money b) lug my poor kids around from family member to family member when I really think they should come to me (sorry families I do think that) because it's a lot to ask an 18 month old to sit on a travel for ten hours and not piss anyone off. But then again I know they all have kids to and I want my babies to know their family so I go. c) possibly miss Terry's last day in the states. That was a big one but he encouraged me to go.

So what else? I have centipends crawling into my basement. That's gross and freaks me out. I assault them with bug spray and squeal like a baby pig then let it rot until it's carcass is hard and brown and then squeal like a baby pig while I use Gabe's light saber to scoop it onto a very long piece of paper and toss it outside. I stand over it and say, "take that you bastard and tell your friends what happens when you enter my domain" woohhahahahahah.

My friends blog was talking about her body issues you absolutely must read. Every woman, especially those of us with kids, will nod their heads at the screen and say yes, yes I feel that way too!

You know I just had a thought. Random I know. But instead of torturing Iraqi prisoners we should just get them really really loaded. Everyone spills their dirty secrets when they're drunk. My neighbor. Me. My friends. Me. So that's what I'm going to write the President about. Liquor for the extremists. Nothing says American like Budweiser baby!