She's a 100% nice woman and she lives to help - she comes over to see dc's and give me a little time off - but while she's here she tidies everything and it's driving me to distraction. Okay, our house is a complete tip, but it's OUR tip and we know where everything is. (sort of.)
And ok I'm tired, have my hands full with high-maintenance preschooler wrangling, and in possession of a gene that values almost everything above folding laundry, and I know iabu to be so cross finding my saucepans stacked willy-nilly, but honestly, it really doesn't help to come home, put kids through bath, take them into bedroom to dress and discover bed covered in 57 piles of folded clothes. Which they then jump onto and fling all over the floor. (Which is what happened after I asked her not to put clothes away after that time she mixed up clean, dirty, boys and girls - including all the too-small clothes I'd sorted into a great stack on the floor. And because I REALLY didn't like finding my undies all lined up neatly in my drawer.) Or be unable to find sippy cup straws. Or that phone bill that was purposely left on the dining room table where I could see it, but has now been tidied into a stack along with junk mail, 537 drawings of humpty dumpty and ds's scissors practise papers.
oops, didn't mean to stray into rant territory - but how do I get her to hold her hormones?