I remember staring into Owen's tiny, precious little face when he was a couple months old and thinking that I could never possibly get angry at such a sweet little face. How could something so angelic possibly ever make me want to pull my hair out?
Oh the naivety.
Owen, bless him, is such a boy. And by such a boy, I mean SUCH A SLOB.
Can we just look at the randomness of objects found in my son's room?
A whisk? Really?
And can we also note Remy? Swoon.
The sad part of all this? I cleaned this room spotless less than a week ago.
Oh for the love of legos..
After a good ole fashioned threatening, I had a little help.
Olivia even popped in to stuff a few toys down her shirt in a feeble attempt to hijack her brother's stuff. Sneaky, that one, I tell ya.
Also, notice that she is in her cheerleading practice clothes at 11AM. Practice doesn't start until 6. She might be a little more than excited.
A little post cleaning brother/sisterly bonding session.
And gosh, let's not forget Remy.
So, let's review.
Boys = gross
Owen = slob
Legos = pain in the foot
Even the cutest and sweetest of babies will grow up and make giant messes that will make you want to sell them to the mob. But then they will no doubt do some something adorable that makes your heart practically melt into a puddle of goo. And that folks, is the perk of the job.