proof that my life is hell

For those of you who don’t understand just how messy my house is, or how crazy I go trying to keep up with the four children and two men I live with, I offer this, an example that I cannot keep things organized:

To contextualize: here, I have just finished organizing the exam proposals of 5 other students from my program who are now finished with exams. [I need to read them soon.] I turned my back for ONE MINUTE (possibly less; no hyperbole here) and here is what I find–the littlest undoing (with much glee) the organizing I worked so hard to acheive.

I should just give up.

Actually, this is also proof that I have a FANTASTIC life. This baby is pretty damn cute. And I looooove him. He is ONE YEAR OLD (yesterday; he’s a Hell-o-ween baby :), and he says UH-oh. Brian and I are horribly goofy and overcome, giggling and parroting him.

Us: UH-oh.

Josh: UH-oh.

Us: UH-oh

Josh: UH-oh

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One thought on “proof that my life is hell

  1. We are in the same boat…
    I want to hear ore about the rhetoric of the “home” industry, being suspicious by nature of these types of things.
    Sister of MiCasaLoca

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