Chaos has pretty much ruled this house since the puppy came. I've managed to feed my family without a meal plan, keep everyone in clean underwear and keep the dirt at bay, but only just. Those first couple of weeks when I was barely sleeping it was all I could do to get the kids to school and myself showered and dressed. It seemed all I did was hold the puppy, take the puppy outside to poop, play with the puppy... it was fun and crazy and exhausting. But now that she's settling in, and my house is falling to pieces around me - it's time to shape up.
My kitchen floor is the bane of my existence. Impossible to keep clean, (especially now that we're in and out a million times a day with the dog,) I've almost given up. After all, we're tearing it out in a couple of weeks. Add to that the fact that the only time I can sweep or mop is when the dog is asleep in her crate. If she's out - she attacks the broom with a vengeance I'd have thought she'd reserve for squirrels and mailmen. Apparently in her little pea-brain the broom is evil and must be stopped. So she jumps on it. And bites it. And hangs from it if I try to shake her off. All the time scattering whatever dirt I may have managed to pile up. It's hilarious and exasperating all at once. I need to make some sort of plan for the kitchen floor. A maintenance schedule. A maid!
The laundry is piled in five baskets in the living room awaiting our little Oprah/folding routine. I don't know why, but I never want to fold the laundry until it's all washed and dried. I hate having piles of folded clothes sitting around. If I folded it every day, as soon as it came out of the dryer, I'd either have to put it all away myself or wait until the kids got home from school and could do it themselves. Neither of these are attractive options. So, I wait until all my baskets are overflowing and everyone is down to their last pair of socks and the laundry room floor is completely clear of dirty clothes - and then I dive in. I arrange piles all around me on the couch and on the coffee table. E.'s clothes on the left, S. in the middle and K. on the right, with my clothes and Asia's on the couch in neat little piles. I sort as I fold so each pile goes into a different drawer when they're all ready to be put away. The neat white piles are soft, with just the slightest hint of Downey scent, and the pants all lay neatly together in stacks that are almost military in appearance. It's really lovely. Sometimes the piles get so tall I have to go put one away or else the whole tower would come crashing down... It's a lovely ritual, all done with O. visiting in the background with her latest guests. But I'll admit - as much as I enjoy my little routine, it's not really working for us. The kids can never find the clothes they need and the baskets are so full they can't begin to dig through them. When they try, everything falls out onto the floor and I get mad... K. has taken to wearing my socks half the time because he can't find his own. A big part of me wants to take a big wad of cash and buy everyone another weeks' worth of socks and underwear, but lets be honest - that's just a bandaid. I need to change the system.
Then there are the feeding issues. If we were all as easy to please as Gracie, I'd be in heaven. A big bowl of kibble at each place would be so easy. However, my family prefers some variety and flavor... picky eaters! When I'm functioning well, I plan my meals and shop accordingly. Then when mealtime rolls around I just look at my list of meals, decide what looks yummy, grab the groceries out of the cupboard and get busy. Lately however, the menu hasn't been made, so at the grocery store somehow I manage to fill the cart with bags and bags of food that somehow refuse to resemble an actual meal once I get them home. I've been getting by on a wing and a prayer and no one seems to have noticed, but it's driving me crazy.
If those weren't enough to drive any domestic goddess stark raving mad, I've got my studio... Now really, it's just the spare bedroom off the kitchen, but it's full of my art supplies and scrapbooking goodies, and I like the sound of the word studio, so that's what I call it. However, right now, I should call it condemned. I'm appalled at it's condition. So much so, that I haven't been able to get in there and do anything for weeks. I go in just long enough to grab what I need for class and then run out with my tail between my legs, ashamed at my lack of attention to what is usually my little sanctuary. There are boxes and bags of product littering the floor and desktop. Papers that need to be sorted and filed are strewn across the floor. Pictures are scattered everywhere. It's a nightmare. I can't work in there and I can't get motivated to do anything about it. It's ugly and I'm irritated.
So - it's time for some goals. Some measurable, do-able real-life clear intentions. Something to encourage some action. A way to defeat the disorder. Prevail over the pandemonium. Beat the bedlam.
Starting Monday. (And no, it's not procrastination - it's realism - housework doesn't happen on weekends here...) Here's my plan:
My kitchen floor is the bane of my existence. Impossible to keep clean, (especially now that we're in and out a million times a day with the dog,) I've almost given up. After all, we're tearing it out in a couple of weeks. Add to that the fact that the only time I can sweep or mop is when the dog is asleep in her crate. If she's out - she attacks the broom with a vengeance I'd have thought she'd reserve for squirrels and mailmen. Apparently in her little pea-brain the broom is evil and must be stopped. So she jumps on it. And bites it. And hangs from it if I try to shake her off. All the time scattering whatever dirt I may have managed to pile up. It's hilarious and exasperating all at once. I need to make some sort of plan for the kitchen floor. A maintenance schedule. A maid!
The laundry is piled in five baskets in the living room awaiting our little Oprah/folding routine. I don't know why, but I never want to fold the laundry until it's all washed and dried. I hate having piles of folded clothes sitting around. If I folded it every day, as soon as it came out of the dryer, I'd either have to put it all away myself or wait until the kids got home from school and could do it themselves. Neither of these are attractive options. So, I wait until all my baskets are overflowing and everyone is down to their last pair of socks and the laundry room floor is completely clear of dirty clothes - and then I dive in. I arrange piles all around me on the couch and on the coffee table. E.'s clothes on the left, S. in the middle and K. on the right, with my clothes and Asia's on the couch in neat little piles. I sort as I fold so each pile goes into a different drawer when they're all ready to be put away. The neat white piles are soft, with just the slightest hint of Downey scent, and the pants all lay neatly together in stacks that are almost military in appearance. It's really lovely. Sometimes the piles get so tall I have to go put one away or else the whole tower would come crashing down... It's a lovely ritual, all done with O. visiting in the background with her latest guests. But I'll admit - as much as I enjoy my little routine, it's not really working for us. The kids can never find the clothes they need and the baskets are so full they can't begin to dig through them. When they try, everything falls out onto the floor and I get mad... K. has taken to wearing my socks half the time because he can't find his own. A big part of me wants to take a big wad of cash and buy everyone another weeks' worth of socks and underwear, but lets be honest - that's just a bandaid. I need to change the system.
Then there are the feeding issues. If we were all as easy to please as Gracie, I'd be in heaven. A big bowl of kibble at each place would be so easy. However, my family prefers some variety and flavor... picky eaters! When I'm functioning well, I plan my meals and shop accordingly. Then when mealtime rolls around I just look at my list of meals, decide what looks yummy, grab the groceries out of the cupboard and get busy. Lately however, the menu hasn't been made, so at the grocery store somehow I manage to fill the cart with bags and bags of food that somehow refuse to resemble an actual meal once I get them home. I've been getting by on a wing and a prayer and no one seems to have noticed, but it's driving me crazy.
If those weren't enough to drive any domestic goddess stark raving mad, I've got my studio... Now really, it's just the spare bedroom off the kitchen, but it's full of my art supplies and scrapbooking goodies, and I like the sound of the word studio, so that's what I call it. However, right now, I should call it condemned. I'm appalled at it's condition. So much so, that I haven't been able to get in there and do anything for weeks. I go in just long enough to grab what I need for class and then run out with my tail between my legs, ashamed at my lack of attention to what is usually my little sanctuary. There are boxes and bags of product littering the floor and desktop. Papers that need to be sorted and filed are strewn across the floor. Pictures are scattered everywhere. It's a nightmare. I can't work in there and I can't get motivated to do anything about it. It's ugly and I'm irritated.
So - it's time for some goals. Some measurable, do-able real-life clear intentions. Something to encourage some action. A way to defeat the disorder. Prevail over the pandemonium. Beat the bedlam.
Starting Monday. (And no, it's not procrastination - it's realism - housework doesn't happen on weekends here...) Here's my plan:
- Each day I will wash, dry, fold and put away whatever laundry needs to be done.
- I will sweep and mop the kitchen every day. Gracie naps after the kids go to school - I will use that time to get the floor clean. Before.I.do.anything.else.
- Make a meal plan, good for two weeks, before I grocery shop. Every time.
- I will organize and clean my studio this weekend. I will get back into the habit of creating something every day.
None of these things are major, life changing goals. But they are things I need to do in order to get my life back in order. Simple, really, but when allowed to slide, the whole world comes crashing in around me and I don't function well.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Cathy, I liked this post. Details about the everyday boring things in life is often interesting to me, strangely enough. The laundry paragraph was my favorite. It was great storytelling about something we all know is NOT the highlight of a woman's life. Delightful stuff.
ReplyDeleteOkay - for some reason, Lorraine, your comment shows up here but it's not counting it... interesting.
ReplyDeleteSorry you aren't being counted.
I still love you.
Oh gosh, the clothes piles. I love clothes piles. Mine go on my kitchen table, though, so they can't stay there too long. And the kitchen floors. Unfortunately witht the dog, the floor will always be the bane of your existance. I've all but given up. These days, if I swiffer wet jet, I'm doing good. The meals, my weakest area. Why, you ask. Well, I just don't like food, and I hate to cook, so that means that doing so is at the bottom of my priority list. I'd rather clean a bathroom than cook a meal. I'm hopeless. And finally, I call my scrapbook area a studio too. Not because it is one, but because the word makes it sound like a place where great things happen.
ReplyDeleteP.S. LOVE THE NEW BANNER! It is absolutely breath-taking.
ReplyDeleteYay - Kelly E. is back!!! I was beginning to wonder where you were. You really should email me and tell me when you're self-imposing blog breaks upon yourself - then I won't sit around wondering if I did something to make you stay away!
ReplyDeleteSo glad you're back.
The banner picture is from a street near here - isn't it just lovely?