I think my kitchen is smaller than before. No it hasn't actually shrunk, but we moved to a bottom floor apartment a month ago and even though the apartment is virtually exactly the same, I swear the kitchen is smaller. I feel more cluttered than normal everytime I walk in there. It can never be clean enough or organized enough to make me feel better.
The bathroom is bigger, but it doesn't help. The living room and dining room have almost a foot more spaced to them but yet, it feels smaller. We have started to leave all of Julianne's toys in her bedroom now, and she can play in there, but all the toys still end up out in the living room and it seems even messier than when the toys were left in the living room.
Every morning I wake up to find a mess that has not been cleaned up from the night before and on this particular Monday, it's too much. For some reason, I already woke up cranky, so Julianne's normal run around the house all excited, touching things that she shouldn't, has irritated me more than usual. The thought of the ever growing pile of laundry makes my head want to explode. I know it has to get done, but it's another one of those tasks that is practically impossible to accomplish when you have a child that doesn't want to take naps during the day anymore, or when she does, it means she won't decide to go to sleep until really late. Later than is acceptable for a child of her age. But what is acceptable, I suppose is the question?
I can't enjoy my coffee in the morning until she has food first. Everything is about her. Am I resentful? Maybe just a little but it will pass, as will the moodiness I am feeling on this particular Monday.