It Figures

I spent my Fourth of July morning cleaning - made almost blissful thanks to an empty house (Tom took the boys to get fireworks and shop for a TV for our bedroom!).  I vacuumed all the rugs and carpets downstairs, dusted all the molding, took everything off the bookcase for a good dusting, took the bottle of pledge to all the decorative crevices on my dining room set, and finished up by mopping all the floors downstairs.  I was tired, but I felt like I had accomplished a ton.  It was nesting at its finest.

So when my phone rang at 11 this morning and it was the completely-booked hardwood floor guys calling to see if they could come sand and stain the patched floor today, what could I say?  The aftermath is pretty bad.  Every surface in the kitchen and dining room is covered in that thin layer of hardwood sand.  The bookcase, and all on it, is dustier than before I got it to it yesterday.  All the cans of food in the pantry- covered.  Every kitchen cabinet is covered.  My appliances are a mess.

I managed not to cry.  After all, I had wanted this done before baby came.  They do look beautiful considering the hardwood guys kept telling me they weren't going to blend well and we should just put in a new floor.  But I went from feeling like I was making a huge dent in the neglected housework, to feeling completely overwhelmed in 5 minutes as I surveyed the damage. 

Goodbye nap, hello Pledge.  It figures. 

We did have a nice, quiet 4th.  I am too big and too covered in poison ivy (yes, again, and on my neck, chin, hand, arms, chest, hip, leg, and foot) to be out in the heat, so we laid low and Tom grilled an awesome meal for us.  My dad came over for dinner, then Tom's mom and brother stopped over to help us set off some 7:15pm fireworks for the boys.  Tom roasted marshmallows over the grill for Patrick and Tommy.  It was a great family day.

Not a big hit with Tommy who spit the whole messy gob into my hand a second later.

Patrick was into the fireworks as long as they weren't too noisy, but Tommy had zero interest.  He wanted to go back inside to his toys.

Patrick's signature "hands over ears" pose.

Enough blogging now, and more cleaning.