Crying over spilled milk

Who ever said don't cry over spilled milk wasn't at my house this morning. I had just finished cleaning the floors when my son (trying to put it in the fridge) dropped the nearly full gallon of milk. Our lovely ceramic tile floor (which I'd love to jackhammer out of there) was as unforgiving as ever as it split open the jug. My son grabbed the jug in a confused effort to stop the catastrophe and held it out in mid-air nearly crying b/c he didn't know what to do. I ran over and grabbed the jug, turning it on its side so no more milk would spill. Then I had to tell him to just leave before I said something I shouldn't. The milk was everywhere, undercabinets, baseboards, the fridge. I won't tell you what other lovely sites were behind the fridge when I pulled it out. Let's just say it took a long time to clean up the mess. But my floors are freshly mopped again. So, in the end I didn't cry over spilled milk...but I sure wanted to curse over it. Waaah! Waaah! Waaah!

A Room with Room

Last week my boys wanted more play space in their bedroom (on the floor) so they asked me to restack their bunkbeds. I told them I'd move them if they completely reorganized their closets, drawers, bookshelves and cleaned out under the beds. They enthusiastically began. What a way to get them to clean and dejunk! Nice and easy! It did provide more space and they like the change. It was more of a challenge than I thought it'd be because I forgot I had to add the rails to the top bunk and the ladder. All in all, we were done before dad got home from work and the boys were anxious to show him. The before pics are mid clean out so things are a bit disheveled.