Stuff

Stuff, stuff, and more stuff.  That's how I would describe my house if you asked me about it.  It's got lots of stuff.  One of my many, MANY, flaws is disorganization.  I can have my place absolutely spotless and in less than 24 hours it will be disastrous once again.

I don't ever have people over for this fact.  If I do clean and tell you  to come on over, in the 30 minutes it will take for you to arrive on my doorstep, my place will no longer be suitable for guests.  I'm like the Tasmanian devil or something.  For real.

Because clutter and chaos seem to be my natural habitat, it should be no surprise that toys on the floor don't drive me crazy.  Don't get me wrong, I make Stink pick up her toys, but it's usually when the ratio of my stuff to her stuff is awry.  If I don't have enough room to put my clutter, well then, clearly it's time for her to put her clutter away.

So there you have it.  What I lack in organizational skills, I make up in other awesome life skills.  Which escape me at the present time, but they're there.  I promise.

You know the great thing about letting your daughter go to bed without picking up her toys?  You then get to appreciate all the cute things she has done throughout the day in a decompressed, quiet, and relaxed state of mind.

I had 3 papers to work on today for school.  So around bedtime I was crabby, frazzled, and had brain drain while trying to get everything done.  Needless to say, the cuteness of a 5 year old escaped me.  Now, my homework is submitted, the little one is in bed, and I've had a Tylenol to get rid of this headache.  I can take a breath as I look around.  Some days I hate all this stuff around me. But there are days like today where I have to admit that I love looking at all this stuff around me.  It's so much more than just junk.  So much of this stuff is what makes my daughter the unique and amazing child that she is.

There's this pile of dolls:

It's just like an I Spy game.  I spy Woody,  an elephant, Jessie, Veterinarian Barbie, Mother Gothel, Celestia My Little Pony, 1 baby bottle, Princess Anna of Arendelle, Ballerina Barbie, a knock-off My Little Pony, Belle, 1 doll sippy cup, Jazmine Bratz doll, and Prince Charming (wearing in Barbie's Veterinarian coat)

No matter what, there is always a pile of dolls.  Always.  I can have her put away all of these dolls as soon as she wakes up, and I'll look up an hour later and there will be a new pile of dolls somewhere else.  This chickadee loves her dolls.

In addition to a pile of dolls there will always be dolls that are tucked in and taking naps spread throughout the living room.  Mr. Man says they're creepy and dead looking.  I think they're precious.  Today 'Gelica is the lucky doll who gets the crib.

Gelica.  Napping.  With her eyes open.  See, not creepy at all.

Look, Stink even made her a pillow so her little baby doll neck doesn't get cramped.  100% precious.

One of my favorite types of piles is the piles of books.  My little lamb is learning to read.  She's so proud of herself, and so am I.  I have to admit that this is a pretty cool age.

Here's a gem I came across that can't help but to make you laugh.  I would try to give some sane explanation as to what it means, but I can't.  After all, I'm not five.

So that's my current world of chaos and toys.  I should probably be annoyed, but i'm not.  I am well aware of the fact that one day, there will no longer be toys that scatter the house.  It's only a matter of time before her cell phone is her new best friend and she hides away in her room all day.  As crazy as this life is, I am trying to soak up each and every moment of my "I have a kooky 5 year old princess" life.

And I have no awesome or wise ending to this post.  Bummer I know.  Until next time!