So I'm getting back to my book 31 Days to Clean by Sarah May and I'm currently on day seven. Day seven's reading is basically about the curse.
No Matter how many times I clean and have the kids clean up after themselves, I always seem to find a mess.
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The little math cubes that you see above scattered across my floor are a wonderful homeschooling tool, but horrible little buggers to step on.
Some days I can't help but ask myself, "What's the point?" I find myself wondering if I should join the "sticky floor" club of moms who claim that a messy house is a sign of a happy family that is making memories. In reality, I know I could never be happy that way, and I'm not quite sure that it actually makes anyone happier. Our very existence cries for order and some degree of structure. Our kids need it, our husbands need it, we need it, despite any memes we may share and signs we have hanging on our walls.
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