3 strikes…I’m done

This was my goal today:


It WAS the craft room and music room but I really needed the crib moved to it’s own room. So hubby moved the rooms around and moved my sewing stuff downstairs and this room became the school/music/ohyeahthebabysleepsinhere room.

In all the moving and with the holidays, this room turned in to a dumping ground for all things.  Today I wanted it cleaned out.  Because I want the baby to have his bed (not that he sleeps in it, but still).

Hubby doesn’t like hints. I very plainly said I NEEDED his help with the baby and the 2yo so I could work on the room.  He helped. He helped as best he could until he couldn’t help any more. 


It seems the kids wear him out fast.

The first time I had to stop was to try and settle Bubbagirl down from a T total meltdown. Still do not know what it was all about.

The second time was to nurse Peanut and put him down for a nap (that took 30 minutes).

I was making pretty good progress, when the terror that is Bubbagirl decided to start screaming about the movie she was watching and she woke up the wee little fat man named Peanut.

As I tried to nurse Peanut BACK to sleep, the diva Doodlebug and the mighty Rapunzel-Mermaid Princess Taderbug felt the overwhelming need to play 20 questions at my bedroom door regarding lunch plans.

Where the heck was their father?

So, three interruptions, three strikes and I was done.  I was so angry and frustrated. 

I kept asking myself “why can’t HE fix lunch? why can’t HE change the diaper? why can’t THEY just…..”.

(He had been helping some… but not enough for me to get this done, and I always had to ask first)

Then I felt guilty.  All of these things I’m asking him to do are my responsibility.  I shouldn’t be getting so uptight simply because my kids were being kids and they became hungry. 

Yet I feel angry whenever I’m working on something big and can’t find peace to complete it. 

This time the project wasn’t even for me (something related to my hobby or reading for fun). This time it was something very much related to my job as manager of our home.  I was trying to create a tidy and organized environment.  I was attempting to prepare my house for school to begin next week.  I endeavored to provide a sleeping place for our son so that we might have an occasional five minutes alone once in a while.

None if it helped my already weary and wobbly attitude.

It’s almost 2:30pm. Lunch is done. Hubby, surprisingly, helped clear the table.  Our girls emptied the dishwasher. They also broke another dish.  I can check off “clean kitchen floor” on my to do list for this week.

Hubby has 15 more minutes to play online before I disappear back into that room to try again.

Am I the only one that finds it this hard to get things accomplished?


**I am hoping to post a video of my room redo as a response to my friend Linda’s vlog**

5 thoughts on “3 strikes…I’m done

  1. Elle says:

    OOH my husband does that too. I’ll ask him to watch the kids, so I can work on our “junk” room, and his version of that is a) play StarCraft until someone is bleeding, b) turns on a not-too-child-friendly movie and proceeds to chase the children out of the room and right into my way, or c) takes a bath. Drives me batty.

  2. Laurie Harley says:

    *Phew* I feel better now. Why? Because this is my life exactly. My house has rooms that look like that. The school room, which was supposed to only be a school room, is now filled with baby dolls, stuffed animals, and other toys. The school supplies still don’t have a shelf, so they remain in boxes on the floor, which have been dumped and strewn across the ENTIRE floor as the kids attempt to find something or other. My husband, trying to be helpful, brought home, not one, but two huge stove boxes from work to make a “house” for the kids. They’ve proceeded to fill it with toys that are supposed to be in their rooms. *Sigh*
    I get it, too, honey. Take a deep breath. Be thankful for your family’s health. Be thankful for your family – period. And take it one step at a time. ((Hugs))

  3. Peggy Sue Brister says:

    I don’t know what to say. My husbnd is not very chivalrous himself. He can be thoughtful at times but othet times it’s like he doesn’t even know how to be thoughtful. Example: when he unloaded all my Christmas rubbermaid tubs from the top part of his shop he took them out one by one and let me carry them all myself down the stairs and over tot he house MYSELF. He took his time getting out each individual one so that I would have enough time to get it down and over tot he house. He will sit in the living room and ask me to go in the dining room and get something for him, like my measuring tape. He knows right where that MF is but he asked me to go get it for him. He would rather me do it then him. I let him load all the Xmas shit back into the shop HIMSELF this time. He didn’t like it either. OH WELL.

  4. TaderDoodles says:

    It’s 4, and I’ve been interrupted by two phone calls, some drama over Daddy telling the 9 year old she had to go outside and play (it’s 60 outside… GO PLAY!), and am now nursing Peanut to sleep AGAIN.
    The room is within 30 minutes of being done (ok, not well done… more like medium-well… )
    Can I tackled the kids room next Christmas?

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