Mania.

So, with Gabriel's 8th birthday only days away, I have been preparing the house for incoming guests. My parents will arrive first, then as they leave Richard & company with us, plus Bruce, Leona, and Grant in a hotel. Combine this with an new and avid fixtation with Pintrest and you've got a recipe for disaster.

I've been cleaning you see. Then Ben commented on how junky our house is, which is very ironic considering his extreme lack of motivation in the field of domestic arts. So then I became obsessed with de-junking. I looked on Pintrest one fateful night and discovered sweet methods for cleaning the washing machine (it looks great), the vacuum cleaner (it still sucks, which is good) and the declogging the boys sink (which was disgusting, and now it drains). Add in that the kids have been fighting like angry, yappy dogs at a cat convention. So then Paul and I yelled really loudly and sent them all to bed at 8:30. I then had a melt down. Or maybe I was having a melt down during the yelling, I know not. I was over the edge. Paul gave me a talking too, told me it was Spring Break not Cleaning Break and I needed to relax.

The next day, the kids were lovely. (Maybe early bedtime and some yelling not a bad thing?) The weather has been fantastic. And yet I was still obsessed with my house. Later in the day, while having some down time at Chuck E. Cheese, I pondered my mental expectations. They were merely this: kind, supportive, perfectly behaved, high achieving children; a stylish and perfectly clean home; wholesome, home-cooked meals from scratch with little processed food; and crafty, fun, homemade crafts and projects to beautiful my life and entertain my children.

Just a tad overreaching, doncha think?

You would think I could learn a lesson once in a while, but apparently that is too much to ask for. So I reflected. I realigned my priorites. I strove to chill.

It's not easy. Chilling is a high achievement for me.