Anyone Have a Match?

Because I'm ready to set this house on fire and start over with a new one.  I am SO SICK of fighting and losing The War on Clutter.  I'm an army of one and I need reinforcements.  Everywhere I look, there is crap, crap, crap and it makes me C-R-A-Z-Y.  Some of it is mine since we are outgrowing this house and there is not enough space for all we have but much of it belongs to my three amigos, all of whom are oblivious to mess.  Why put stuff away when you can just move it aside?  I wish I could feel that way, I truly do.  It must make for a calmer, more peaceful existence when you don't mind snuggling up to a pile of Dr. Seuss books or stepping on Indiana Jones figures.  Unfortunately, for them and for me, I mind.  I mind A LOT.

To add insult to injury, my mother was here earlier this week and left her slippers smack in the middle of the living room entry path.  I thought she forgot them so I ran waddled out to the car to give them to her.  Imagine my surprise when she hadn't forgotten them, they are actually slippers that she keeps here.  I was flummoxed, too shocked to say anything as she waved and drove off.  So the slippers live here -- is their new place to be kept the living room floor?  Is this dementia setting in?  Don't I have enough people leaving me things to clean up without her getting in on the act?  What...the...fizzle?

Perhaps I should start playing the lottery.  If I won, Sheemee and I could move to a hotel where the staff would make our beds and wash our towels.  I would happily handle the rest because The Girl 2.0 will be cast from my mould and love order, organization and neatness as I do so there wouldn't be much to clean up.  She will only have 4 toys anyway as a preemptive measure against her falling into the same spoiled pattern of her siblings.  Tommy Boy and The Dynamic Duo could meet us in the lobby for visitation so as not to risk them sullying our pristine living space.  Sure, I'd miss them immensely but apparently that is the price I must pay to live in the environment I want and need without being the family chambermaid 24/7.  Mommy is huge.  Mommy is swollen.  Mommy is exhausted in a way they cannot fathom.  If the past is an accurate predictor, none of that is going to improve within the next quarter.  They should be afraid, very afraid, and yet none of them are.  Pity.  I see lots of screaming (Tom) and toys being trashed (Jack and Natalie) forecasted for their futures.  Oh well, they have brought it on themselves.  M is for Mommy, NOT for Maid.  Perhaps I should hire someone to needlepoint that on their pillows.  Better yet, have it tattooed backwards on their foreheads so they are reminded each time they pass a mirror.  Jack and Nat couldn't read the words but I bet the lesson would sink in nevertheless.