Gifts from God and other ways of making a mess

Dearest readers,

I am first and foremost a mother of three, and thus is my calling in life. However, I continually amaze and awe over the wide spectrum of distruction that can be caused by six little hands and six little feet.

We arrived home last night from our Easter trip to visit the kids' grandparents (code for my ex husband's parents) in Lytle, TX. This entire town is filled with two substances: 1.) God-fearing, hard working, small town Americans, and 2.) Dirt. It is the second substance by which my children gain the majority of their enjoyment while visiting in Lytle. When we arrived home yesterday, my youngest son, the angel blonde Paul Newman-blue-eyed- adonis of a little boy was essentially doing his impression of the peanuts character pig-pen. And with this impression, he left a trail of dirt from the car to the livingroom to the bedroom, to the bathroom that could make a white glove cry.

Now, I am the last person out there who is anal about cleaning. However, returning from Lytle makes even me cringe. I will now spend the next 4 days wondering how I am going to clean my house, and then Friday I will be depressed because I haven't cleaned it, then Saturday, I will clean it. And so it goes.....