You can't come back from this

My house is a disaster.  An epic disaster.  You know, I hear you in the background saying "Yeah, you should see my house."  But you don't understand.  I can't even post pictures because then CPS and the health department will have evidence against me when they show up at my door.  And I can't find my machete to hack a pathway through to where ever the camera may be hiding.

There is a baby's tennis shoe in my bathtub.  And a peri bottle, a package of cough drops, a few used kleenexes, several bath toys, and I don't know what else.  I'm too scared to look. 

There's an unidentifiable stink coming from the garbage can.   Make that several two garbage cans. 

I have two baskets crammed, stuffed full of clean laundry.  My dryer might also be loaded with clothes.  And I may or may not have had to rewash a load of laundry this morning because it had sat in the washer for two days because I couldn't empty the clothes out of the dryer because there was no more room due to the mountain I've recently named "I don't wanna fold clothes" taking up all the room. 

My girls may or may not have worn the same jeans three days in a row due to the aforementioned mountains of laundry. There's no visible dirt, so its okay, right?  They do have on clean underwear.  I hope.

There is a broken cabinet door in my kitchen where, in a fit of frustration, Max broke the door off because he couldn't open the cabinet because of the childproof latches and proceeded to hang off the door until the hinge broke.

The floor of my entry way downstairs crunches when you walk on it.   It has approximately 27 shoes (none of them matching of course,) a bag of dirty clothes waiting to got to the dry cleaners, and mail from the last three days scattered all over the place.

You don't really need to change the sheets on your kids' beds do you?

There are alphabet blocks in every room of my house.  Somehow 26 alphabet block multiplied when we were all asleep, and I can't walk two steps without stepping on one of them.  They are on every stair in the entire house since the baby boy finds great delight in standing at the top of the stairs and throwing the blocks down, one by one.

Despite the fact that I know we have mopped the kitchen floor this week, there are stains in every color and shade of the rainbow all over the floor.  That flourescent orange blotch?  Yeah, its from when Max decided to empty all the leftover mac and cheese out of the garbage, flinging it all over the room, all because I had the audacity to take 30 seconds to pee.

So really, I don't think there's any way to come back from this type of disaster.  I'm pretty much thinking that we should just demolish the house and start over.  In the meantime, I'm ignoring it.  I'm gonna just sit here, in my pajamas, eating my townhouse crackers with cheese, drink my Diet Coke and watch last night's Grey's Anatomy on my DVR.  And as long as I don't see any animals running around that don't belong to us, I'm gonna call it a happy day.