It exists for one, brief, shining moment then it's gone.
I guess my house is never really white-glove-test clean, but I do like it to be tidy so you actually walk on the floors and see the table top. Crazy, I know.
Right now, the girls are in preschool three days a week, for a few hours. It's enough time for me to go to the grocery, clean up the house a little and even take a breath or two. It's the one time I can get into the girls' room, pick up all the toys and rocks, throw random trash away and even, gasp, vacuum. One day, I sent a picture of the clean room to my husband because I was so proud. And also because I knew it wouldn't last the day.
I cleaned up our front room (which should technically be a formal living room but we don't have furniture for it yet) which had been strewn with fake coins, pieces of paper and beaded necklaces in no certain pattern. When they got home, they took the bins I'd out everything in and literally dumped them back on the floor. For no good reason, as far as I can tell.
I don't want to interfere with their creative play and I know kids need room to play and explore. I just wish it didn't involve quite so many small pieces spread all over the house.
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