racing my child

um…how, pray tell, does one clean the house faster than her child messes it up?!  i feel like i am living in the movie “groundhog day,” which, by the way, i did not find funny at all.  i literally scoot around the house, sometimes surreptitiously, trying to race my toddler into a room and manically clean it (much the same way one tries to dig a moat and make frantic repairs to a sandcastle as the tide sends waves relentlessly closer) before he a. finds me and b. finds a way to trash the room, which he usually accomplishes in about 7 seconds.  the child’s creativity in this arena is quite impressive.  

and at some point as this scooting and moat digging is taking place, my lovely, lovely boy will, as if on cue, walk past me with a load of doo doo in his diaper that could make a dinosaur faint.  the joys are unending, i tell you.