Under Control

Yesterday I was talking about how I like to keep Christmas decorations sparse, and how I had everything under control. Then I looked at the background of the pictures from the wreath cookie thing, and it looked like...this...

 I am such a liar!  I wasn't winning the clutter war!  Let's see, there is a knee brace, a cello waiting to be fixed, a Tupperware full of ribbon, a vase of seashells, three pairs of wooden shoes, a Christmas book in French, Ruby's reading assignment for English, a fork, some tin foil, an easel, a cellophane Halloween bag, a book report form, a baby sock and a vase half-full of Christmas ornaments.  Each one of these items represents a project that is currently unfinished.  "Under control?"  Those are two words that do not exist in nature with the two words "seven kids."  Especially when you add the two words "holiday season" and the two words "debilitatingly optimistic."  Those are the two words I have come to use to describe myself.  I am often reminded of the scene in Finding Nemo where the dad says, "You think you can do these things, Nemo, but you just can't!"

Well, I don't care.  I'm going to do them anyway.  I can't spend my life with wipes in one hand and a diaper in the other.  Life is more than poop patrol!  I have to entertain myself by blogging, I have to have eighty projects waiting to be finished, I have to get involved in things I care about, I have to do the things I like.  So my side table picks up the slack.  Big deal.  As you can see, however, the table is finally under control.  Now, if you'll excuse me, Ptolemy is eating egg nog ice cream out of the carton with his bare hands and Tziporah is ten seconds away from pulling a butcher knife out of the dishwasher.