My house is eating me alive.....

Do you ever get the feeling that your house is literally trying to get you?  Yeah, that feeling.  The one where you are almost paralyzed with anxiety over what exactly you are going to do with it all?  That is me, today, right this very minute.  Here is the evidence:

This is Kembia and Moyz's room.

And this is Moyz's bed, which is buried beneath 3 babies worth of clothes.  He hasn't actually slept in this bed in a couple of weeks.  Not because there are clothes all over it, but because in the pack and play he doesn't crawl out at night and wander down the hallway.  So, if no one is going to sleep in it, it has become a second dresser.  Because it takes way too much time to fold clothes and put them away, plus I only have room for one dresser for all three babies in this room.  Technically, Truitt is supposed to be in there with them, but he doesn't sleep through the night yet so he is still with us.  We figure it is better to have one baby up, then all of them.

Organizing is not my strong suit.  I recognize that this is a problem when you have 5 kids.  But somehow I cannot get my crap together and get a system that works.  I totally get it that if you do a little bit a day it makes everything work out better, but somehow I am not capable of doing it.  

Yesterday I stumbled across a blog, can't remember which one for sure, but I think it was Centsational Girl, and she had listed a chore chart that she uses.  Basically, everyday of the week had a chore assigned to it.  For example, Monday: clean toilets and bathroom, Tuesday: mop floors, etc., etc.  I seriously think I need to make a chore chart for myself.  And award myself golden star stickers every time I do it right.  And then, if I do everything I am supposed to for a week I get a treat.  Probably a mocha from McDonalds, although that would blow the whole losing weight to go to Peru thing, so we'll see what the treat is.  

You would think that after 30 years of living I could pull myself together.  I have come to the conclusion that you are either organized and tidy or not.  I am not.  I want to be, but man, it seems like a lot of work.  Although, one could argue that I am making myself work harder by not being organized.  For example, I have lost my car keys.  No idea where there are, I have ripped this house apart looking for them and no such luck.  Part of me thinks that one of the babies threw them in the garbage because they love to throw stuff in there, but it may just be that my house ate the keys. 

Check out this mess I have:

This is my "organizing center" in the kitchen.  Clearly, it is doing its job to the best of its capabilities.  Now to be fair, you see on the second cubby from the left on the top row?  That brown spot amongst the black?  That is where Moyz tipped his chair back and took a chunk out of it when he fell, so I did have to move some stuff around and pile it on top.  But still, this is a sorry state for an organizing center to be in.  My calendar which keeps me straight and where I am supposed to be is buried under that humongous binder on the left.  

I need an intervention.