Silly... or Not so Silly Pet Peeves #LongandShortReviews #BlogChallenge

Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge hosted by Long and Short Reviews.

This week's topic: My Silliest Pet Peeves

I'm sure I have some silly pet peeves, but as my brain is fried from this lockdown, I can only think of two pet peeves and it's because of my children.

I don't know if these are considered silly or not (maybe by some people who don't have kids), but here goes...

1.) I can't stand when there's stuff on the floor in my house. I don't mean stuff that's supposed to be there such as a coffee table, sofa or a box of toys (insert my 14 year-old's sarcasm with this one), but the other stuff. The stuff that has a home and it is not the floor. Like blankets, toys, books, paper, legos... 

The list can go on and on in my house. I find such random things on the floor and it boggles my mind how it gets there. Batteries, headphones, the TV remote, puzzle pieces, socks, erasers, pencils, candy wrappers, a soda can. 

I mean, really?? Do we not know where things go?

Also, I might need to put this in perspective for those of you who don't know me. I have four kids. Count 'em. FOUR. Between the ages of 14 and 5. And I also have this mysterious kid who always gets blamed for stuff. I have yet to meet this one, but the poor thing gets blamed for everything. Such as when I found the crust of a peanut butter sandwich under the coffee table. Every one of my children exclaimed, "It wasn't me!" So who does that leave? 

Yep. Some kid named, I Don't Know.

It's a never ending battle in my house to get my kids to pick up after themselves. I seriously feel like if I don't follow them around all day long, reminding them to put things away, they instead simply toss whatever item is in their hand over their shoulder and the action is mysteriously wiped from their brain.

Don't get me wrong, my kids are amazing! They are really wonderful kids. Well-behaved, polite, kind-mannered... for other people! When we visit friend's houses, I always get compliments on how my children pickup after themselves and they are so neat and clean.

Well, obviously, there's some sort of mutation that begins in their brains when they enter my abode, because neat and clean they are not!

I just want to be able to vacuum the living room floor without having to spend an hour picking up stuff first. And what's with all the tiny, itty-bitty pieces of paper? Where does that even come from??

2.) I make my bed every morning, and I wish (pray, dream, envision, beg?) that my children make their beds every day, too. (Yeah, that doesn't happen.)

I think a bedroom looks better when the bed is neatly made. The rest of the room could be disorganized chaos with everything else (bookshelves, night stands, dressers, etc), but if the bed is made, I feel somewhat content and I feel like I've accomplished something first thing in the day.

Yet, despite my continued efforts to make my bed every morning, invariably throughout the day, I need to make it again and again and again.

"Why?" do you ask.

Because for the last 14 years, I've had children growing in my house and they seem to find some appeal in destroying a neatly made bed. 

Not theirs... mine. 

Whether its because of bouncing or playing hide-and-seek or some other inventive game-play, my bed is somehow made an integral part and the neatness of my blankets, quilts and pillows is inevitably destroyed as a result.

Friends and family promise me that one day, I'll miss having stuff on my floor and my bed a constant heap of blankets and pillows. One day, my kids will all be grown and living lives of their own and my house will remain neat and clean.

And I hope each of my kids has children just like themselves!

Of course, if it goes on as such (and I'm lucky enough to live that long), I'll be a grandparent one day and I'll probably have grandkids at my house throwing stuff over their shoulders without a second glance and bouncing on my bed to see who can go highest. So I don't foresee my life changing much.

Life with children.

I love it. I love it so much! (Seriously, I do!) But it will drive me crazy one day.

Is it any wonder why parents go gray??

Okay, my little rant is over. Go about your day.

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