The Extraordinary Life of an Ordinary Mother

  I have two wonderful, crazy, and messy dogs. They bring joy, cuddles, laughs, and, well, you guessed it, messes. I have shredded rugs, window sills gnawed on, shoes with teeth marks, bare patches of dirt in the backyard, and muddy paw prints everywhere.  Let's remember the people I live with, my teens and, the messiest in our family, my hubby. Not dirty messy, more like clutterbug. And I'm sure he's clutter-blind. Oh, he does his best with reminders, like when I remind him, "Don't forget, I like to eat at the kitchen table." Unfortunately, our breakfast room is on the way to the back door and patio, with a detached garage. John uses the table as a stopping point before putting things out in his garage. Yes, his garage. I stay out of there at all costs!  What's my point? I feel a weird guilt almost daily over the normal messes of life in my house. I make my bed every morning around tiny messes in the corners of the room, where bags of donations have been