The other day, Amelia had a stinky diaper.
I took her to her room to change it.
When I walked in her room, I realized it was a mess. Most of the mess seemed to be dirty clothes, which are easy enough to clean up, so I decided as soon as I was done changing the diaper, I'd clean up the dirty clothes.
Oh, and there are some clean clothes, too. Okay, I'll hang those up after I handle the dirty ones. Easy.
Halfway through the changing process, I was looking for somewhere to set the dirty diaper, and realized that there was a pile of dirty diapers already on the bookshelf next to the changing table. Ew. So I decided to take those out ASAP. I'd do that before picking up the dirty clothes and hanging up the clean ones. Cool.
Well then, I hear a bloodcurdling scream from the playroom. Charly. I can't very well leave a diaper-less Amelia lying on the changing table, so I yell for Charly to come to me. She does, and promptly tells me that Parker threw a toy racecar at her.
Ugh. Really, Parker? So. Since throwing toys is a big no-no in our house, I now have to go discipline Parker before doing anything else. Parker, diapers, dirty clothes, clean clothes.
Now, changing Amelia is no easy task nowadays. The girl is wiggly, and she's fast. So long story short, this diaper change resulted in some...dirty hands.
Obviously, dirty hands fall pretty high on the priorities spectrum.
So, as soon as I finished wrestling Amelia into a new diaper...
I washed her hands. A lot.
I found Parker and reminded him of the "don't throw toys" rule (by this time he had forgotten that he'd even done it. Timely discipline is key, people!).
I ran downstairs and grabbed a plastic bag to collect all the dirty diapers in.
I ran upstairs and threw all the dirty diapers into the bag, and then did a quick sweep of neighboring rooms for stray diapers, because let's face it, they're everywhere.
I took the bag o'diapers out to the trash barrel.
What was next? Oh yeah -- I went back to Amelia's room, rounded up all the clothes that looked dirty, took them to the laundry room, and started a load of laundry.
And the clean clothes in her room are still waiting to be hung up.
So if you ever wonder why my house, or the house of any other mom, is kind of dirty...now you know.