Mission Impossible

I was at a friend's house recently. It was immaculate. The beds were all made. Fresh towels hung in her powder room. The soap dispenser was full. The kitchen sink was empty. The toys were neatly stowed. There was no sign anywhere of the 47 tons of paper that clutter my house at any given time. There were no handprints on the refrigerator or crushed Cheerios scattered across her kitchen floor.

It took all the willpower I possess not to bury my face in her freshly vacuumed carpet and beg her to adopt me.

My own house, which has been under assault by triplets for the past almost 10 months and will be for YEARS to come, is a little different.

For three weeks my living room looked like a children's thrift store while I attempted to sort through and store all of the kids' clothes we have rapidly outgrown. If it weren't for my sister's help (thanks, Judy!), it would probably still look like I was a Goodwill annex.

Paper piles up everywhere. Oh, we have systems. They just seem to do nothing to stem the never-ending flow of paper that comes into this house.

My fridge is cluttered with Amelia's art. Well, at least the top third is. Anything lower and the boys can get ahold of it now.

On a regular basis I walk around the house and throw all the mail, receipts and miscellaneous paper in a box and go through it. I weep a little bit for the forests when I do it.

I can't even bring myself to mention the laundry. My fellow multiples moms -- or any mom with more than one kid, for that matter -- know the pain of which I speak. It truly is the task that never, ever ends. And I don't even dress the triplets half the time!

Now that we are rapidly approaching the boys' first birthday, I've decided to turn a new leaf when it comes to the house. A fresh attitude! A positive outlook! A sign on my door that reads:

No need to remove your shoes,

No need to wipe your feet.

When it comes to clean,

We've got the problem beat.

All we need is this magic hint:

When you come inside, PLEASE SQUINT.