my dilemna

So. . .here you go.

My house is a mess.  I can't see out my windows.  My lawn needs mowing.  The laundry is up to the ceiling.  The bathroom wallpaper still need to be hung. Hanged? The kitchen floor is so dirty it is growing things.  Errands to be run.  Bills to pay.  And sometime in the near future I ought to actually cook a meal for my family.

So, you ask, what's new?

Here's the deal.  Kate's baptism is Saturday, after which our 75+ family members will be coming for lunch.  Fun day, I know!  And while I have pretty much consigned myself to the fact that my house will be consistently messy for the next 18 years, there is a leeeetle, tiny something inside of me that insists I could maybe have the whole house clean at one time. 

Phew.  It scares me just to think about it. 

So here is the question.  Do I ease my peace of mind?  Give in to the urge?  Because try as I might, I've spent a whole month trying to gradually put my house in order so that I didn't feel this sense of panic the few days before the big bash.  And you know what?  I've got an almost two-year-old that qualifies as a category 6 hurricane.  As hard as I try, it's no use.  We're messier than ever.  No holds barred- this place is a wreck.  And I've got four days.  My only option here is to rent a hotel room and a nanny and ship the girls off for the remainder of the week. 

OR.  Do I throw in the towel?  Swallow my pride, knock the macaroni and cheese off the chairs, and plead with our guests that they may come in as long as they promise not to call Child and Family Services? 

My, my.  The nanny option does sound very nice.  So does a clean house.  But I'm afraid it wouldn't do.  Perhaps my children would feel saddened at my willingness to send them away.  (On the other hand, they may be thrilled.)  And unfortunately, this plan definitely does not fit into my budget.  And besides, let's be honest here.  Once I lay off the nanny and let my wee ones come home again, I give it 45 minutes before the place looks just the same as before.  Only with cleaner windows.

It's lookin' like I'm just going to have to let it all go.  Take a deep breath, and hang out a welcome sign.

Yes.  In fact, I'm decided.   

The door is wide open.  And you're all invited.  Except, if you don't mind, I just have one more question.

Should we let our guests remove their blindfolds to eat the jello salad?