messes

Some mornings feel like the day wakes up two hours before I do — there's just no other way to explain the mess that greets me after washing the sleep out of my eyes. (In true SAHM fashion, though, that can be hours after getting up. Please tell me that's not just me.)

“How many time have I asked you….” I say in frustration, and then it hits me. The real question I should be asking is how many times I’ve uttered that phrase.