Me versus the playroom

For the past several weeks, I have dedicated my Friday mornings to getting the house cleaned up. Even the bathrooms. Shocking, I know! But I've found (and most of you smart people probably already know this) that by cleaning every week, the house isn't as much a disaster as it is if I wait, oh say, a month.

But there is one room in our house that no matter how frequently I clean it, it almost immediately reverts back to its "natural" state.

Behold, my daughter's playroom:



Do not adjust your screen. That is indeed an image of a room in utter disarray. And you might not believe it, but I spared you the worst of it. The Barbie side of the room, which in its current state, might make you weep openly at your computer. No matter how many times I clean it - or ask her to - it promptly becomes an unorganized black hole in a matter of hours.

I don't even know how she can stand to be in there when it is in that state. I have to wear shoes when I walk in (which goes against our "no shoes in the house" policy) because you never know what you might step on. Many a foot has been impailed by princess jewelry, stray Barbie attire and miscellaneous Polly Pocket crap.

As you can see, my daughter is not lacking for things to play with. This room is the very reason I will be begging family NOT to buy a single toy for her birthday next month. Clothes, yes. Shoes, please. Barbie paraphenalia, not unless you want to see my head start rotating before the cake is even served.

Personally, I would prefer to play in a room that looks like this:



Organized, tidy, everything in its place and easy to find. Lovely...

As I type, I can hear the walls heaving and I sense that the room is revolting from its recent cleaning.

Sigh, it is a daily battle and one I fear I am losing.