Do you live in a pig pen?

For the last few weeks, it feels as though that phrase is all that comes out of my mouth when I look around my home. There is clutter, of course, because we have three children. But apparently, the clutter, much like it's amorous neighbor, laundry baskets, likes to get frisky and multiply.

I am sick of picking up after people. I realize that I have a long way to go in this never-ending race; but seriously, I feel as though I am living in a frat house. No one cares if things are growing on the bathroom floor, the garbage is overflowing or whether or not you can walk on the floor. And it would be really cool to make a wall entirely of empty Horizon Organic Chocolate Milk boxes...All we need is a toga party to be right up there with Animal House...

I get it. Boys are messy. They smell if not reminded to bathe and practice personal hygiene. They like to grow hair and nails (on both their hands and feet). But what about having some dignity?

And the whole messy house thing? I cannot deal with it. I work a full day. I come home to homework and making dinner. Sometimes, I would like to go for a walk with my neighbor.

But, I ignore the clutter like I ignore the laundry and it debilitates me. I glance from corner to corner, wondering why people send my children gifts, wondering if they will ever understand that I cannot (and will not) jump over book bags, lunch boxes, binders and other junk in order to walk from one end of the house to the other.

This evening, when I walked into the boys' room to kiss them goodnight, I found clothes on the bed, hangers on the floor, shoes everywhere, and the drawers in the dresser bulging open. When I opened said drawers (or tried to) I couldn't. The shirts and whatnot were so crammed in there, I had to take everything out and re-fold them.

And I was angry.

Because I think a little neatness can go a long way.

Because a little neatness can make my life a lot easier. Because there are children that are old enough to go through their things, get rid of the stuff that they no longer use or need. They can use things, and then put them back where they belong after they no longer need or want them.

But they are not entirely to blame.

Perhaps it is my own fault.

In an effort to be efficient, I have always gotten restless waiting for the kids to finish picking up. And I jump in to do it.

Or, I tell them that the way they were doing it was not the "right" way. And so I would show them, and end up doing it myself.

So, I guess that the saying , "You reap what you sow" is really true.

So now, it's time for this little piggy to pick up his towel. And this little piggy to pick up his shoes. And this other little piggy to pick up toys and put them in right place.

So that we don't live in a pig pen...