Tonight as I was scrubbing juice stains out of the carpet from H spitting it out, I had to just keep the mantra running through my head; 167 days until we live in a house with no carpet. 167 days until we live in a house with no carpet.
Not, mind you, that this would make a four and a half year old spitting out juice because it made their friends laugh acceptable. But it would make the clean-up a lot easier.
Last night, I came back from hanging up the batch of next size up clothes in Charlie's closet to find that not only Charlie, but H as well, had thrown their forks on the floor to signify the end of the meal. With ketchup on them. It's a good thing Julio's Liquors is so conveniently located, because it's amazing how much calm the promise a glass of wine at the end of the night can bring.
Needless to say, my kids were in bed by 5:37pm.
I can't tell you how much I loathe carpet in an eating area. While it's a 'cosmetic fix', it's been an automatic rule-out for any house we looked at. Because the last thing I want to do is have flooring installed with my five and two year-old boys in the mix.
In fact, the lack of houses available that didn't have some sort of shag, indoor/outdoor or other fuzzy surface in either a dining or bathroom was a little shocking. Carpet in a bathroom...I don't know who ever thought that would be a great idea. Did they forget what toilets are for? And that the items that go in them don't always stay there? Or get there safely in the first place?
So, just 167 days until we step out and lock our deadbolt for the last time. Until then, I'll be humming that little ditty each night as I pick up, swipe, blot and vacuum food that my little cherubs have dropped and/or thrown. Seriously, anyone who's ever claimed we don't have a common ancestor with chimpanzees has never seen my children at mealtime. They may as well be chucking feces at me, because getting ketchup out of cream apartment-grade nylon carpet...not so pretty.
Come on, put your back into it!