Run for cover!

It's an avalanche

My husband is the real neat-freak in our house. But evidently, it is rubbing off and leaching into my system as well, because last night I nearly had a nuclear meltdown from all THE STUFF that is taking over our home.

Now, I love the UPS man. He brings me things from amazon.com. So you'd think that, on a day when we received 2 big boxes from the UPS man, I'd have been kissing him as I signed his electric sign-y thing. HOWEVER. Said boxes were delivered from DH's far-away cousins in South Carolina, and contained More Christmas Presents. More than the eighty-bazillion we came home from Florida with (for which I'm grateful, Mom! don't read into that!). One box, in particular, really got my Goat because...

It was SIX FEET TALL. Six! Feet! It contained what I thought was "the starter set" Thomas the Tank Engine wooden track. This had been discussed over and over on the phone with my MIL -- "V. found it on sale! Only $19.99!" I think I was on the phone with them while they were in Wal-Mart, wanting to know if AJ had it already. Such a peaceful little playset, all "classic" with the wooden track and magnetic wooden engine cars. "Ooh," I said excitedly, "we'd love that!" And proceeded to tell my own mom, and everyone else, that we wanted Thomas the Tank Engine. Wooden. Engine. Cars. for the cute wooden set we'd be getting in the mail on Christmas.

What was actually in the the Six-Foot Box was this GI-Fricking-NORMOUS "ULTIMATE THOMAS PLAYSET," with ONE-HUNDRED-FORTY-SEVEN tiny little pieces, it advertised, practically blinking with neon lights, that I will naturally be sucking up into my vacuum until kingdom come and infinity.

And by the way, it isn't the cute classic wooden one that I... I mean, AJ... wanted. It's synthetic.

The cousins also included several cute 18-month-old outfits, as well as some very random items for DH and me, like the flashlight that doesn't require batteries, but you have to crank for 30 seconds before it lights up. You've seen these, right? On the info-mercials. I have a closet that's slowly filling with weird gifts from these relatives who barely know us. Can you say GARAGE SALE? Why do they send us gifts?? I know I should be grateful, but, geez. Send me flowers with that 20 bucks.

But the toy clutter is getting crazy. And I know it's only going to get worse as he gets older. I firmly resolve, as the Act of Contrition says, that I will impart the lesson of giving to those less fortunate as the years go by. We will SO go around the house every year, collecting toys that AJ no longer plays with, and we will donate them. But, butbutbutbutbut.... what am I to do with this playset?? I have no playroom. I have no train table. I have no "grandad's basement" where I can set this thing up. I guess we'll just get out SOME of the pieces, and then find a (convenient?!) place to store the box (Six Feet!) and the rest of the trains. Lordy.

It all hit like a windstorm last night, because aside from all the toys, I also had left out a stack of bills that wanted filing, and piles of laundry that needed to be put away, all in the living room making me crazy. Then DH got home in the rain, telling me there were 2 boxes getting wet on the front porch, so I thought he was mad about that, (he wasn't, but it added to the stress). So we opened the gifts and were then swimming in packing peanuts and wrapping paper, and the aforementioned Clutter had arrived. Meanwhile, dinner's on the stove and going to get cold, and I panicked because I always for some reason try to have dinner at a predictable hour, like, right when DH gets home (self-induced, unnecessary stress, I admit). Thank goodness AJ wasn't screaming because then it really would have been an avalanche. And I probably wouldn't have survivied my own insanity to tell the tale!