The floors

Every time I feed my child, I'm once again reminded why I hate vacuuming and mopping. Jackson helped me vacuum this morning. (He screams bloody murder if I try to vacuum while he's napping. I don't know if its the noise or what. But he loves to help, so I must now do it when he's awake.) By "help," I mean he followed along behind, trying to take it from me, scooting it back and forth, then yelling when I tried to do a different section or actually pick up particles with the vacuum. Once he contented himself with getting it periodically and allowing me to do some as well, we managed to finish. Then I let him play with it some.

Fast forward an hour to lunch. First, the high chair tray broke. So I thought, no biggie as long as he's still strapped in, he's safe. True. HE'S safe. My freshly vacuumed kitchen floor...not so much. He's learning to be independent, which is a good and natural thing that I'm sure I'll appreciate when I don't have to spoon feed a 15-year-old. But the learning process is a challenge. The trick I've developed for trying to promote independence, actual consumption of food, and reduce the sticky quality of my house is to allow him to hold one utensil while I use another. It works pretty well, most of the time. He "feeds" himself (though he usually gets very little out of the bowl and onto the spoon) while I do.

Yeah, it turns out that tray is pretty necessary. There was rice, vegetables, and sauce all over him, the chair, and (you guessed it!) the floor. I know it's a silly thing to worry about. I can vacuum again. I can mop again. I know I'm supposed to enjoy all the cute little things my little boy does because he won't be little for long. And I do. Usually. But flinging food just irks me. And if that makes me a cranky mommy, c'es la vie. It just frustrates me and reduces my inclination to vacuum.

I'm not a stellar housekeeper. I try to keep up on the important chores while still playing with, teaching, and taking care of my son. I try not to let things pile up or get too out of control. But vacuuming is such an aggrevation when I know that between the kiddo, the hubby, and the self, it's going to need it again in about, oh, 10 minutes...