Wrangler of wrecks,
Spinner of plates,
Cowboy of chaos.
I've come to the realization (Ta Da!) that my little world has a determination to fall into chaos as it spins around. My central mission is to rein in the chaos and those little beings that aid in the bedlam, and create a state of order. If I stop herding, wrangling, spinning and roping, this tendency toward chaos will take over and I'll never catch up with the mess.
Ever notice how, as you're walking through the house to do something entirely different, you stop along the way to pick up bits and bobs dribbled around, straighten pillows and blankets, toss clothes in the bin, and sweep up crumbs, and it's all unconscious? You don't even realize you're doing it. Most days when Jay comes home, the house looks just like it did when he left and I swear to myself that I actually did something that day: I fought the chaos.
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