
I’m very fortunate to have today off, and in turn I’ve let my toddler destroy my house.
I feel like I’m in a constant battle with my entire home with cleanliness.
Toddlers don’t help. All I do is clean up after him.
Between the laundry, a picture that I won’t even post on the internet. (Our laundry room is located in our old dark basement, that is currently being used as my studio too.)
The dishes, Sippy cup overload with all their bits and pieces. The twelve plates I use throughout the day to try and attempt to feed my temperamental eater.
The cabinets, that I just freshly painted today, because they were covered with chocolate milk splatter, grubby fingerprints…
The bathtub has been over taken with squishy letters, rubber ducky's, and the random objects (this week it’s paintbrushes) that Harrison insists he bring in the bath.
My car. Oh my poor, poor car. Cheerios, goldfish, pretzels, and a couple of lost sippies that I am sure are trash worthy.
But my biggest problem is the toys.












