Minutiae

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Dirty dishes -- including a milk glass -- on the kitchen countertop.

A pile of candy wrappers on a bedroom floor.

A mound of wet bedding to wash -- AGAIN -- just like yesterday. Despite pull-ups.

Said wet pull-ups still in pajama bottoms on the bedroom carpet.

Traces of poop on the bathroom floor, and I haven't even looked to see what the toilet bowl holds for me yet.

A wet, wadded-up hand towel in the same bathroom. On the floor. In the corner.

Clothes on the floor -- in the MASTER bedroom -- that are not mine.

It's not the big stuff, not the over-arcing traumas or the nagging issues of marriage and parenthood and stay-at-home-momhood that bring me down. It's the minutiae. The constant, never-changing, daily, they-never-learn-or-change-minutiae. When they cart me off to the asylum, tell them that's what did it. And put me in a clean, white, padded room free of anyone else's body fluids PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY.
Posted by Mama at 10:03 AM

3 comments:

kisatrtle said...

I feel your pain.

March 6, 2011 1:37 PM
diane.bogusz said...

This is how I felt while potty training my twins. Pee and poop everywhere, all the time. So much hand washing my hads were red. I though it would never end, but it did.

March 7, 2011 8:23 AM
Lisa Catherine Harper said...

I totally agree about the small, day to day things...that's what did me in when my oldest was 9 months old: the tedium of the minutae, not the baby, or the mothering, but the isolation and tedium of the those endless small things. I have a whole chapter about what ensued in my book. A long time ago I knew someone very privileged who had someone come in every day just to clean up morning dishes and do all those morning chores. I thought it was insane at the time. Now I almost wish I had a magic fairy like that.

March 7, 2011 11:33 AM

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