I really must try and figure a way for the smooth-running lifestyle that exists in my mind to merge with (nay, TAKEOVER) the fraught-with-disorganisation reality that I am faced with daily. Or at least, this week.
My DH has been away on a business trip for the last ten days and since the little guy has been on hols last week and this, we've been rather footloose and fancy free around here. We've had some great time in the Common, made friends in the playground, run errands and visited some sights (Madame Tussaud's, Hampton Court Palace and a river return to Richmond, and Legoland in Windsor) that have made for long days whereby mummy is knackered at the end of it and the housework put off for the next day. It's not to say that the laundry hasn't been done. It HAS. But I'd be lying if I said it had been folded and put away neatly. Is it wrong to hope that the laundry would fold itself, like some cunning enchantment out of Fantasia?
Since there are no laundry fairies I'm faced with the reality that my husband will be back at the flat in about four and a bit hours and since the little guy and I have a few errands to run later, I'm trying not to panic while at the same time being completely paralyzed and overwhelmed and not knowing where to start. Which is probably why I'm blogging.
I'll have to hope that the fantasy in my brain of relaxing this evening in a clean and tidy flat, packing for our trip tomorrow, and then possibly picking up a spot of knitting will be enough to sustain me through the housework frenzy. One can only hope!