C.H.A.O.S

Yep.  I suffer from C.H.A.O.S.  It's a debilitating syndrome...it really is.  What is it you ask??
Cant. Have. Anyone. Over. Syndrome.

Anyone else familiar with this??  Its when your house it at the point where if the doorbell rang, you would quickly shuffle all the kids to the back room of the house, turn the TV to mute, and hope the person just goes away, lest you have to open the door and let them see the mess. OR, its the "If I absolutely must open the door & talk to this person, I'm going to step outside on the porch & talk to them outside- EVEN if it is pouring rain or 20 below zero- because they AREN'T coming in my disaster zone!"  (I may or may not be speaking from experience on both of those...*blush*)

C.H.A.O.S. has many types or levels of seriousness. It may be a messy disaster of a kitchen.  It could be that you haven't vacuumed in days.  It may be that your laundry pile is overflowing & could take over the entire house.  It may be dog hair on the couch. Crumbs on the counter top.  Dust so thick, it may just be permanent... A bathroom that indicates yes, indeed, males live here...For some people, just an unmade bed would send them into C.H.A.O.S.

Yep, I have C.H.A.O.S.

Sure, some would say I have an excuse.  After all, I have a newborn, a 5 year old, and a 3 year old.  Plus a dog and a husband (yes, they make messes, too!).  But I don't consider those excuses.  My job is a stay at home mom.  Part of my job description is to keep the house clean.  My version of clean isn't having everything spotless and germ free.  However, it does mean that I wouldn't want to crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment if anyone ever came over.  It means that my house has the appearance of being lived in, but tidy.  Sure there may be a few toys on the floor and a shelf that isn't always dusted, but I would hope that my home always feels inviting.  I don't try to be perfect.  I don't even try to appear perfect, because I know that its not possible & I wouldn't be able to keep up that facade.

So now that I have admitted my syndrome, I need to treat it.  Immediately.

The treatment??  Crank up the Music, get out the vacuum, start the washing machine, rinse the dishes & do whatever it takes to rid yourself of C.H.A.O.S!

 PS- If I am not heard from in awhile, send the authorities.  The laundry pile is menacing & may put up a fight...