And the rowdy shall inherit the earth.

We've started bringing Evelyn and Willa into big church to sit with us through the service. We did this with Mary Grace at about this age with mixed results. She's never been one for the whole "sitting still and being quiet thing." Evelyn and Willa, however, behave beautifully and don't even need reminders to be quiet...let alone needing to be dragged out by one arm and yelled at in the vestibule. Ah, the memories.

Anyway, we get lots of comments from people at Church about how well they behave, etc. It's nice. Then there was today. During the children's sermon (when all the children go up to the front steps to sit in front of everyone) Evelyn was trying to get Willa to laugh, and when Willa wouldn't oblige, she started poking her in the eye repeatedly and then hugging/choking her. Did I mention that they were two of five children up there? Very nice, ladies. I'm sure we made lots of parents out in the congregation feel much better about themselves today. Amen.

I love the smell of bleach in the morning

There is an extremely short list of things that could make me happier than having a sparkling clean house BEFORE spring break even starts. I announced last night that the next day I was going to clean, and that I needed everyone out of the house while I did it. I've never seen a group of people so happy to comply.

I had three uninterrupted hours of cleaning time. It was great. Don't get me wrong, I would certainly prefer not to have to clean the house, but the result is SO satisfying. Where is the line drawn on OCD with regard to cleaning? Do I have tendencies? Possibly. One of my sister's nicknames for me is Monica. (Thanks to all of you who get the reference.) But am I a nut? I don't think so. The house can get pretty dirty. It's just that I get all out of sorts when it's like that. The sun shines directly through our kitchen/living room windows in the late afternoon, and I just get so creeped out the way it highlights every fleck of dust in the air, not to mention the junk on the floor. It puts me in a bad mood. It's not that I'm obsessed with cleaning. I have three children, a husband and a dog running around. I don't have time to be obsessed. I just REALLY REALLY REALLY would prefer for things to be clean. This is just making me sound crazier, right? Even in high school, I was kind of nutty about making my bed, and keeping my bathroom clean. My sweet sister, in protest, would refuse to let me clean her half of the bathroom, and I'm pretty sure she kept it extra messy on purpose just to bother me. Same way with my wonderful husband, who just can't manage to rinse out the sink after he brushes his teeth, or get his dirty clothes in the hamper, even if I put it right where he likes to pile things. When Mary Grace was very small, she was talking to me about how Daddy teaches the band kids. I asked her, "And what does Mommy do?" No hesitation - "Mommy cleans up our messes."

I guess the question of whether or not I have a disorder doesn't matter nearly as much as how happy I am right now sitting in my nice clean house.