So here's what I just did--an example of why a stay-at-home-mom's life really IS more difficult than it would appear from the view of an outsider:
Earlier this morning I had managed to separate my laundry. Hours later, while Anja was locked in her room (literally... she locks herself in now to play by herself. Luckily, she knows how to unlock the door, and I have a straightened paper clip handy in case of emergency) and Greta was happy in the kitchen with a couple of graham crackers, I thought I'd put the dark load in the wash. But, oh, wouldn't this be a good time to refill the small detergent container instead of lugging out my ginormous refill-sized on and dumping straight from that (without measuring)? Sure! So I started... glug-glug-glug... and this turns out to be a slow and tedious job. Then I remember that Greta is unattended, so I go to peek in the kitchen, and sure enough, she's gone. So I go (ginormous refill-sized detergent jug in hand/arms) looking for her, and she is just happily toddling through the house, making her way back to the kitchen. So, back to the laundry room I go, with my giant jug, and to get to the laundry room, I have to step over the horrible dog gate. And OF COURSE, my knee hits the top of the gate, which trips me, and pulls the gate down, and down to the floor I go with my huge jug of detergent, and suddenly the entire hallway--myself included--is blue and goopy. It's all over my face, all over my front, all over the dog gate, and worst of all, ALL OVER THE CARPET. Now, granted, the carpet is disgusting in the first place, but STILL. How am I going to clean it up?!? Laundry detergent is a bear to wash off skin, annoyingly enough, and so I imagine this litlte carpet mess is just going to be pretty much everlasting. Also, it was all over my wonderful blue sweater, which I don't think is supposed to be washed. And my fabulous multi-colored Christmas scarf, which I also doubt the washability of. *sigh* well, I guess I'll just "lay flat to dry" (along with MY FACE) and hope for the best. Ugh. And of course, since normal life without big spills is chaotic enough, all the while I'm trying to decide what to do while not going permenantly blind from having detergent in my eyes, the dog is licking up the spilled laundry soap, Anja is telling me she has to pee-pee, and Greta is getting into everything, including the bathroom, which is a place she is strictly not allowed for SO MANY REASONS, not the least of which being the fact that Anja won't let us flush her poo-poo (which sits in her little pink potty on the floor) until the NEXT time she has to make a poo-poo, and for some reason, poo is fascinating to Greta.
So anyway. That was today's adventure.