"some of my clothes need ironed"

That's what the husband told me tonight.

Want to know what I said?  "you get on that, honey."  I don't really care if you're wrinkled.  I'm just glad I have the energy to make sure the clothes are clean.

Heck, some days, I cheat, fluff up the kiddo's favorite socks in the dryer and call them clean. 

If you told me a year ago that my house would have a layer of dust on the furniture, no freshly-vacuumed lines in the carpet and a teetering pile of clean laundry piled up in the laundry basket, probably very unlikely to ever see a hanger, I would say "shut your mouth!"

But, you know what?

This working mommy is T.I.R.E.D.

And I sort of don't care. 

Bad, I know, but it is what it is. 

The house is picked up.  It's not a disaster, it's just not dusted, vacuumed and tidied on a daily basis like it used to be.  Laundry was done, folded and put away.  It's the put away part that kills me.

But, you know what?

My kiddo is happy, healthy and loves me even if I'm frantically searching every morning for one of his sets of favorite socks.  And even though I don't have a big dinner waiting every day or freshly baked cookies to snack on.

That all went out the window when I started working full time. 

There are just not enough hours in the day. 

And the husband is probably digging the fact that I don't fret over out of place pillows or something not sitting just so on the table.  He's been trying to get me to relax for years.  Guess we figured out what would make me just a little less particular...lack of sleep.