I've officially joined the club

I know there are lots of milestones and big things that automatically make a woman a member of the Motherhood Club, the biggest and most official being actual labor (still trying to figure out how to get around that one).

Clearly, I haven't gone through labor yet, but something else has happened to me twice in the last week that I think pretty much cements my admittance into said club: I sneezed and peed my pants.

But just a little.

Be honest: It only gets worse from here, doesn't it?

Springtime visitors

I don't remember a lot from my childhood, but I do remember this: When I was in junior high, a group of my friends were hanging out at this guy's house. He wanted to show us his cool bird (I don't even remember what kind it was, just that it was big). That bird must have been so excited to get out of his cage, because he flapped around and around the room, squawking, trying to find a safe place to land. As a couple of kids chased him around the room, he frantically landed on what he must have thought was a safe nest - directly on top of my head. (I had very curly hair, I suppose much akin to a bird's nest.) When he realized it was a head, not a nest, the bird became even more frenzied and tried to break free, causing him to become completely tangled up in my hair. It took three people and what felt like hours to un-tangle that stupid bird. I was officially traumatized and have despised crazed, flying animals ever since.

Bats and moths come to mind, but we don't have bats. Instead, we get moths.

There are so many downsides to Andy being gone that I won't even try to list them. But the worst one by far has to be those wretched moths.

Every spring, they appear in our entryway. They just appear - loads of them. And I hate them. Some manage to sneak into the house. And they came last week. I had to get something from my car at night, so I turned on the light and walked into the entryway, and was greeted by at least a dozen moths, frantically swooping at my head, trying to get into the house.

It was that stupid, frantic bird all over again, minus the squawking. And it was gross.

I can't think of them just like butterflies, because they are NOT like butterflies. Butterflies are calm and serene. They float. Moths are just frenzied, and they cause me to be frenzied and walk around my house with a flyswatter, swinging at the air as they evade my attacks.

To date, I have killed five of them, but they keep coming back. They disappear during the day and reappear at night, all crazed and scrambling for the light.

Gross.

Who knows of a better way to get rid of these wretched creatures?

I'm airing my dirty laundry (and dishes, and giant vats of Cheez Balls)

When Andy's gone, this is what happens to our house. At least lately.

Sadly, this is not the worse my kitchen has looked in the last two weeks.

Just home from Costco, and too lazy to put stuff away.

I just have to point out the giant vat of Cheez Balls. I laughed when Heather gave those to me, but sadly, I'm the only one who has eaten them, and look how much I've eaten!

A few months ago, it was because I was so sick. Now I'm just so...

...lazy?
...sloppy?
...tired?

Who knows, but he's been gone for two weeks* and we have a week and a half to go. I better get cleaning if I want to be done by the time he's back.

It's funny, because as the Compassionate Service Leader for our ward, I'm pretty okay at pulling people together to deliver food, help with people's houses, and other services. But when it comes to pulling myself together to take care of my own house...forget it.

I wonder why that is?

*Andy's in Aspen shooting a movie. Doesn't he have such a glamorous life? While I stay behind, sitting on the couch eating Bon-Bons and watching Hulu because we cancelled our cable. (Seriously, why does having children make us do crazy things to save money?)