Hoarders, the Digital Edition

I'm a digital packrat of the most incurable kind.  That whole "I might need this someday" thing rears its ugly head; I still have 5 1/4" floppy disks with my college senior thesis on them.  Not that I have any software that can access the files, and it's been at least 5 years since there was a computer in this house that accommodated ANY floppy disks, but I've got those disks...

I use gmail for most of my email, but I have it forwarded through some complicated electronic system or other so I can read it in Outlook on my computer.  Therefore, I never go to gmail's site unless I need to check the spam folder for something that was misfiled.

I had 67,000 messages in my gmail inbox yesterday.  Years and years and years of messages.  And I deleted them all.

And it didn't kill me or cause bad things to happen to my family. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

But I'm still not ready to dump those floppy disks.

Things To Do Before the Weekend

In a way, this is my personal response to Hilary Rosen's comment last night that stay-at-home moms don't "work."

There are a lot of loose ends to tie up around this house before I walk out of here Monday morning and return Thursday or Friday, only to have to lie around with my feet up for a while and let other people do what I usually do around the house.

TheDad wants me to write down all the stuff that he will need to know.  Even then, I know that I'll have kids calling me at the hospital asking me where stuff is and how to do this or that.

Things I MUST get done:

• laundry
• dust and vacuum my bedroom
• write out logistics concerning:  lunches, school bus
• make tutorial cookbook for Middle Sister
• square away the Secular Franciscans for next week's meeting (that's this afternoon's task)
• get my wedding ring removed (and then repaired, so when I'm out of the hospital I can wear it again)
• grocery list and shopping

Things I SHOULD get done:

• make arrangements for Anointing of the Sick
• get ahead (if possible) on the publicity work I do for Room Two Productions
• finish the last bit of freelance work
• check on library books
• clean the bathrooms

Things I'd love to get done but I'm well aware that they "ain't gonna happen:"

• take down curtains, launder them, return them to windows
• launder, starch and iron living-room tablecloths on end tables
• a really detailed vacuuming of the whole house, including Couch Diving
• scrub my kitchen floor before my mother shows up here and does it

All this in the next day and a half, because Saturday is busy and Sunday I'll be doing prep, which means I won't want to be doing any heavy work.

Rejected

Opposites might attract when it comes to spouses, according to an article in today's Wall Street Journal, but I don't think it works that way in mother-daughter relationships.

Right now I'm responding in a completely irrational manner to my daughter's announcements that, 1, she's going vegetarian for Lent, and, 2, that she doesn't want what I was going to make for dinner tonight either. Completely irrational. Because I'm feeling rejected by this. She doesn't get that. Not only does she not get it, she's mad at me.

But I have lost all steam in the dinner-prep process after she started making herself a bean burrito. We can't both cook in the kitchen at the same time anyway--the room is too small for that. So I left the room. I'm being ridiculously oversensitive and I can't seem to stop it.

Cooking is a big part of the way I nurture my family. I work around the silly preferences (she's off soy sauce; Big Brother doesn't like corn) and the dietary needs (husband with gout, Little Brother with lactose intolerance). I make broccoli that they like instead of Brussels sprouts that I like. I enjoy cooking and making meals that my family likes. And then TheDad skips dinner every Spaghetti Night and Middle Sister (and now Little Brother) announces that tonight's meal is not a favorite.

I cannot believe I'm sitting here losing it over the dinner plan.

 

Sometimes You've Just Gotta Break the Rules

I have a thing about working on Sundays.  If I don't have to, I don't.

Work that gets done on Sunday is work that can't possibly wait until Monday (or be done ahead on Saturday).  I don't do laundry on Sunday unless there is a True Laundry Emergency.  The same goes for vacuuming and other housecleaning.  After all, when you're a homemaker, you do all that stuff every day of the week.  It's good to remember to take a day of rest, to separate the day in some ways from all the other days.  The same goes for my freelance-writing work.

I do cook on Sunday, but I enjoy that.

Today, though, I emptied out 3 kitchen cabinets, one appliance cart, and one dining-room cabinet.  I took everything out and decided what would go back in--and where it would go.

I present the Leaning Tower of Bakeware.  I can cook 5 1/2 dozen regular-size muffins or cupcakes.  (Not that my oven could hold that many at once, but I've got the pans to make it happen).

And the pots and pans and bowls and colanders and...yikes.  It was like the clown car of kitchen cabinets.  More stuff just kept coming out.

I have a huge bucket (one of those party buckets with the rope handles) OVERFLOWING with stuff that didn't make it back into the cabinets:  stuff that's used maybe once or twice a year, so I'll keep it elsewhere; and stuff that I just don't use, so I'll donate.

Now, all my bakeware is in ONE place.

The rewards of treating Sunday as a day of rest are great.  This afternoon, I worked.  I spent about 2 hours not resting so that I can make my future time spent in the kitchen much more pleasant.  (There's even a tablecloth on the table!)  On a weekday, I don't get 2 hours in the afternoon to do this kind of stuff--I'm too busy being a taxi driver, referee, and nagger-about-homework.

It's taken 12 years to get my kitchen to look this good.

Now I can rest, and enjoy the fruits of my labors.

What a difference a day makes

Teenagers.  They're frustrating one minute, but inspire your awe and pride the next.  Since I vented yesterday about that little attitude problem I had with my daughter, it's only right that I commend the heart and friendship she exhibited today.

Even more amazing is that all of this happened while she was very far from feeling her best.  She was feeling pretty punky this morning, but in the absence of a fever or migraine or stomach-flu symptoms, I sent her off to school.  Just after 8:30 (less than 45 minutes after her arrival) she texted me to come pick her up, that she was in the nurse's office.  Yup, stomach flu.

True to form, she opened up during the short drive home.  (Kids always open up in the car!)  Apparently a good friend of hers is very upset with her mom.  The friend is an only child; Mom's a single parent; Dad is remarried and lives in a nearby city with his new wife and 2 small children from that marriage.  And Mom doesn't drive, but she works long hours, until late at night sometimes.  My daughter's friend feels like she gets no attention from her mom, that her mom doesn't care about her, that she should move in with her dad.  She is either alone from just after school until late in the evening or with an aunt, uncle and young cousin with whom she doesn't get along well.

I observed to Middle Sister that her friend probably wasn't complaining to her all the time in order to get Middle Sister to solve the problem; that she probably just wanted someone to listen.  And I commiserated with her friend that it must be tough to be all alone all evening with no way to get anywhere, and all of that.

A few minutes after we arrived home, my daughter was set up with her ginger ale and crackers and cell phone.  And then she asked if we could do something for her friend, if her friend could come here after school a couple of times a week and have dinner with our family so she wouldn't be alone so much.

I told her that would be fine, as long as I knew in advance when we'd have a dinner guest and if it wasn't on the nights when Little Brother has rehearsal, because we'd have to drive this girl home after dinner and that won't work on rehearsal nights.

And this is why I do what I do.  She may be 16, but as her friend's situation clearly demonstrates, 16-year-olds need parents around too.  Families with a stay-at-home parent make sacrifices so that can happen.  I know that not every family is able to do this, but I am very grateful that my family can and does, and that, in her own way, my daughter knows that it's a good thing.

From the Department of "How Did THAT Get There?"

Things found on the living-room corner hutch while decorating for Christmas:

--one giant oak leaf, almost too big to fit in a Ziplock gallon-size bag
--two complete decks of cards
--the three of hearts from a third deck of cards
--one guitar pick
--six pieces of Lego U-Build Battleship
--one sea shell (clam)
--one nonfunctional laptop battery
--two Cub Scout awards
--one penny
--one "little black book" of Lent reflections
--one big black patch with a white star and Indian chief pictured on it (I'm guessing this belongs to one of my Scouts?)
--one video camera
--program from MAME
--Middle Sister's certificate from her school's fall Honors Assembly
--one blue plastic frog
--and a black-and-white plastic chicken foot, broken off some long-tossed action figure.

This is, of course, in addition to all the stuff that's supposed to be on those shelves:  photos of all the cousins, our framed wedding invitation, and a statue of St. Joseph.  That cabinet is my living room's very own, very dusty Black Hole.

Giveaway at Mom's Fridge

I'm hosting a giveaway over at my recipe blog!  It's a FREE code for the HomeRoutines app for iPad.  Read all about it and enter the contest here.

Comments are closed on this post. All entries must be made at Mom's Fridge.

Real Person, Real Saint

Today is the feast of Saint Martha, one of my very favorite saints.

It's the saints like Martha that give me hope for ordinary people like me.  So many times we put the saints on a pedestal.  We think that they were always perfect, always praying, always doing the right thing.

People tend to do that with their heroes, saintly or otherwise.

But we never get the chance to put Saint Martha on a pedestal.  She starts right off by ratting out her sister to Jesus, their honored guest.  And Jesus gives it right back.  He lets her know that she is just way too stressed out and that she's letting her anxiety get in the way of her hospitality.

I've had way too many "Martha moments," and I'm not talking about Martha Stewart.  I'm talking about the Screaming Meemie Party Mom who often inhabits my house before we have company.  It isn't pretty.  It isn't fun, for me or anyone else.  I'm sure Saint Martha wasn't having fun that day either, especially when she was embarrassed in front of all her guests as Jesus took her to task.

She redeemed herself later, though, when she confidently proclaimed her faith in Jesus and who He was.

Saint Martha reminds me that saints are, in fact, real people with real faults, real challenges, real attitudes and real faith.

Saint Martha is the patron of cooks, servants, homemakers, single women, laundry workers, innkeepers, dieticians and travelers.

Read an interview with Julie Davis, another Saint Martha fan, right here!

Image credit

Dead Giveaway

I was all over this article on home organization at BHG.com (Better Homes & Gardens) until I got to page 7: the Living Room Art Station.

So what's wrong with this picture?

Parents will see the problem immediately.

White carpet. Paint on a low, accessible-to-toddlers shelf. Presumably there is a playroom or family room somewhere else in the house. I'm sure there must be a kitchen somewhere--one that doesn't have a white carpet.

Clearly the people who came up with this brilliant idea have never spent any time with small children. (To her credit, Middle Sister saw the trouble with this room instantly.)

Image credit: BHG.com

Slowly but Surely...Spring Cleaning

I'm using the 3-bag method to clean up in here today.

• 1 paper grocery bag for recyclable paper
• 1 tote bag for stuff that belongs in another room
• 1 trash bag

So far so good!  I've discovered that I do, indeed, have a desktop.  It is brown.  It is not dusty, because there was no room for any dust to land on there!

I found a couple of things I didn't know were missing, and my bag of stuff to relocate is by far the fullest of the 3 bags.

The rest of the house still needs work--lots of work.  But my little corner of the world is well on its way to neatness.

Reworked

Barbara has been doing an occasional series on laundry.

Laundry is one of those chores that we do one way and we stick with it. Even when our system isn't working well for us, we stubbornly stick to that system.

I freely admit to being a slave to my laundry system, which hasn't worked well for us since we moved into this house. That was in 1998.

Our old home was compact, with no wasted space, but not much to spare either. The utility closet (big enough for furnace, water heater, washer and dryer and nothing else) was just inside the front door--in the dining room. I had room for one laundry basket on top of the dryer. So laundry got done and delivered to the bedrooms, to be put away. I had no choice--there was nowhere else to put it.

Then we moved to this house, which has a laundry room in the basement. Since I had always folded the laundry right there by my dryer in the old house, I did the same here. But it was so easy to fold the laundry and place it in a laundry basket--one for each family member.

Five laundry baskets take up an awful lot of floor space in the basement.

And by the end of the day, I would forget to hassle nag remind my kids to carry their laundry baskets upstairs and put their clothes away. So they'd go to the basement to look for stuff, and rummage through the baskets, and I'd get annoyed because they had unfolded all the neatly-folded laundry.

It wasn't working for me. It wasn't working too well for them, either.

So I tried something different--which, for me, is a big step. The only time I willingly try something different is when I'm cooking. I stepped out of my Laundry (Dis)Comfort Zone. When the dryer was done, I dumped everything into a basket and took it right upstairs. I folded it on my bed and delivered the folded things to everyone else's beds. Now when they get home from school there is laundry on their beds, to be put away. There are no baskets cluttering up my basement floor, full of tumbled clothes. There is no "Mom, where's my (insert name of article of clothing here)?" There are no mad rushes to the basement downstairs to find that missing piece of a uniform.

I deliver as I go, and it's amazing how much better I feel about getting that done. The only thing I need to tweak is what happens to the Lonely Socks, since I'm no longer in the basement to utilize the Lonely Sock Clothesline.

It feels so good to retool a system and have it work out so much better!

So On Target

I love the Zits comic. Even though my teenage son is away at college, I can relate to so much of this.

Like today's installment.  I AM THAT MOM.  And it's wearing me down.

You might have to click on the picture to view a larger version.

Neat and Tidy

Here's my MESSY desk as it usually looks!

My desk is always a mess. I think what I really need is one of those desks the size of a twin bed; failing that, one with a hutch on top of it that reaches about as high as I can without leaving my chair. I'm a visual person, so I like the stuff I need to be on top of the desk and easily at hand.

Since I don't have my desk in a room where I can shut the door and hide the mess, but rather in the family room, right by the front door, where anyone who walks in can see just how cluttered my desk can be, I knew that I had to do something about it.  But there's just nowhere to put all the things I like to keep within easy reach.

So I started hunting around for a desktop organizer that would leave me enough room for my laptop, iPod speakers, planner and coffee cup.   And I found this cool organizer at CSN Stores:  the Safco Products Three-Way Radius Front Corner Organizer.  You can set this organizer three different ways on your desk, depending on the space you want to create.  Assembly was required, but it took only about 15 minutes and required NO tools:  the whole thing is put together with glue-coated pegs that needed only water to activate.  (I did find a rubber mallet useful to get the larger sides inserted all the way.)

Nice and neat!

This desk organizer has space for everything!  I tried it all three ways before I decided on the way it fits my desk best, and if I ever move this desk to a different space, I can adjust the orientation of the organizer to fit that location.  There's room to keep all those little things like Post-it pads and iPod cords, and a flat surface on top where I keep my phone when it's charging, a little jar of candy, my mug of small change, and the cup of chore sticks, which deserve a post of their own.

I've got a neat desk now, and it's pretty easy to keep it that way!

Full disclosure: I was provided with a credit to CSN Stores and chose this product for my review. I was not compensated for the review in any other fashion other than the free product.

What I Need Right Now

I crave routine. I really need it, and I miss it.

The lack of routine is what drives me crazy about summer vacation. That, and the lack of quiet. I need a good deal of both of those in order to keep my sanity about me.

This school year, I haven't managed to get the routine working yet. The kids have been in school 2 1/2 weeks and things have just not calmed down. Every so often, the non-routine of my days gets to me and I have a meltdown moment.

I'm wondering if this is all a reminder to me that when I put others' needs ahead of my need for routine, the whole world will not come crashing down around me. The dishes might not get done until 10 PM. The ironing will be pushed back another day...and another day...and maybe even another. (And my ironing will be pushed away completely, since I'm wearing sweatshirts on these cooler days, so no one can tell if I ironed my t-shirt!)

So maybe, those times when my routine is interrupted by the needs of those I love and care for, I can work in a new routine, and offer that interruption for the intention of the one who needs me most right then.

With Apologies to Laura Numeroff

I'm living one of those "If You Give a Mouse A Cookie" stories.

We have thermal drapes in the family room, hanging on the dreaded Tranverse Rods--the kind of curtain rods that have this little rope pull, and if you yank the rope in the right direction, the curtains open (or close.)

If you yank the rope too hard, the little plastic thingies that attach to the back of the curtain rod break off and fly across the room. Pretty soon your drapes aren't hanging on by much.

So I went to the store to get replacement plastic thingies. I admit that I was hoping that I couldn't find them. This way I could justify spending my whole freelance-writing paycheck on a new curtain rod and ring clips for my drapes. Unfortunately, I found the plastic thingies. I bought 3 dozen (this window is about 12 feet across, so there are a lot of hooks for the drapes.)

So, with my apologies to Laura Numeroff, here is my story.

If you buy replacement plastic thingies for your curtain rod, you'll have to take the curtain rod off the brackets to install them.

As you take the curtain rod down from the brackets, you will drop a screw. It will fall behind the couch.

After you move the couch to retrieve the dropped hardware, you will notice that the sheer curtains between the drapes and the windows are awfully dusty. You will decide that as long as you've got the drapes down anyway, you might as well wash the sheers.

When you put the curtains in the washing machine, it's not a full load. So you will go back upstairs and take down the living-room sheers as well, and put them in the washing machine.

Heading back to the drapes, you will decide that you can't hang dusty drapes over clean sheers. You will remove all the pointy metal hooks so you can wash the drapes next.

As you remove the pointy metal hooks, you will poke your finger. You will need a Band-Aid. Then you will notice that some of the pointy metal hooks are missing. You will remember that you had spare hooks from the last time you took down the drapes.

(You will try not to think about how long it has been since you took down the drapes.)

You will rummage around in your "spare parts" stashes in the basement. You will knock a package of light bulbs behind the water heater. You will remember that you have more light bulbs that you just got at Shop Rite and need to put away.

After you find the bag of spare pointy metal hooks, you will put all the other pointy metal hooks in the same bag. You will gather up all the drapes, which no longer have pointy metal hooks stuck to them, and put them next to the washing machine.

Then you will sit down to install the new replacement plastic thingies. You will find that they slide in easily from the end of the drapery rod. You will also find that they get caught on the remnants of the old plastic thingies that broke off when someone yanked the rope too hard.

You will try various tools in an attempt to remove the pieces of the old plastic thingies. Nothing will fit. You will go hunting for your Swiss Army Knife, which you took out of your purse before you went on vacation, because you didn't think it would pass through security.

And finally, you will finish installing the new plastic thingies, put the drapery rod back up, hang the clean sheers, stick the pointy metal clips into the clean drapes, and put the drapes back on the rod.

And you will curse the day that you chose such terrible window treatments.

Power to the People

This evening as I laboriously covered Middle Sister's workbooks in contact paper (per her teachers' requirements) I received a phone call from some political survey. They had a captive audience in me at that moment.

I answered the usual questions like "if the election would be held tomorrow, would you vote for the incumbent or the challenger" in the race for governor of my state. I rated my trust level of the various candidates on certain issues on a scale from 0 to 100. For the record, nobody got 100 on anything.

And then I was asked a question that quite surprised me: had my labor union contacted me and encouraged me to vote for one candidate or the other?

"I'm a homemaker," I replied. "I don't belong to a labor union. And if I did, I wouldn't let their opinion of how I should vote influence my vote."

After I got off the phone, I started wondering what it would be like if homemakers did have a labor union. It's not like we get paid or anything (not in money, anyway.) What kind of circumstances or events would inspire the Homemakers' Union to stage a strike?

Interesting...

An Encouraging Word on a Busy Day

Today was one of those days when this "stay-at-home mom" wasn't home much. I took Little Brother to the library. I zipped to the Dollar Store and CVS to pick up a few necessities (sidewalk chalk among them, because it just isn't summer without an abundance of sidewalk chalk). I picked up some Chick-Fil-A lunch. I took Little Brother to the pool, and encouraged him as he practiced his swimming and then cheered for him when he passed his swim test (he's allowed in the Big Pool now without me--yippee!) After dinner I delivered Big Brother to cross-country practice and then took Little Brother to Middle Sister's basketball game, where I cheered for her team and provided first-aid necessities when a team member got injured.

At home, I did manage to get 2 loads of laundry hung on the line, bathrooms "swished and swiped," dinner cooked, served and cleaned up, and my writing for the day done.

I was despairing over getting stuff done (or more correctly, not getting stuff done.) And then a friend of mine sent me a link to the 50s Housewife blog. I was curious so I followed it--and I found this: "Someone Has to Do It".

Then I realized I didn't do that badly today after all. It was a busy day, but a good day. Much as I love to be home, sometimes my vocation takes me out of it--to the pool, the library, the store, the basketball court. Those things are important too, even when they prevent me from cleaning the floors (which seriously need some cleaning!) Now go visit the link. We all need that kind of encouragement.

Homemaker's Lament

Boy, have I gotten behind on certain household chores: namely, mopping the floors. It's not like there is a huge amount of floor to mop, but for some reason I dread this job. It's a bath and a half, a very small foyer and a small kitchen, so probably we are talking about less than 200 square feet that need mopping.

But it was time. I couldn't sweep under the kitchen table because of some mysterious and unreported spill. Another unreported spill took place by the one-foot-length of counter space between the stove and fridge. I have my suspicion on what that was, but whatever was spilled under the table remains a mystery--and it took a long time to scrub up, too.

Now what I want to know is: why are there whole sunflower seeds in that unreachable space behind the toilet in the powder room? If I know whom to blame, I know who gets to scrub that spot by hand after school, since the mop just can't quite get it.

Homemakers R Us

I have this refrigerator magnet that says "Dull Women Have Immaculate Homes."

No, it's not a Mother's Day gift-gone-wrong. I bought that thing for myself more than ten years ago. It makes me feel better, because my home is not immaculate. I like watching Clean House because I know that I am not that far gone.

Today I followed this chain of links: Ebeth posted about Erin's post about Jen's post about Totally Together Journal, which is a fairly new homemaking website, and which I actually do follow.

Following all the principles is another ball game. There are only 7:

Number 1: Make Beds Right Away
Number 2: Do One Complete Load of Laundry
Number 3: Empty All Garbage Cans
Number 4: Keep Your Kitchen Sink Empty
Number 5: Clean Up After Yourself and Help Children Do the Same
Number 6: Bathroom Wipe-Down
Number 7: Before Bed 10-Minute Clean Up

but somehow those can get away from me. And the worse, of course, is the second half of number 5. Sometimes even the first half of number 5.

I don't do too badly about cleaning up, but I do tend to leave signs around that I've been through. When I vacuum, the chairs I've picked up stay on top of the table until they're needed again. When I mop the bathroom, the wastebasket stays in the hall until two days later when I get tired of walking out into the hall to toss a tissue. Unfortunately, my kids have inherited this behavior--in triplicate.

Granted, Little Brother is big enough to do some vacuuming (with a handheld vac) but he isn't coordinated enough to be able to "tangle up the cord" when he's done. Actually, he tangles it up just fine. He leaves the whole mess in the middle of the room where everyone else trips over it until I come along and wind up the cord neatly and put away the vacuum.

I love reading about home organization and systems for keeping a clean house. But the road to a clean house is not paved with good intentions. If it were, I'd have an immaculate home.

At least I can console myself with the fact that I must not be dull.

Lost--and FOUND!

I'm taking a break from tearing apart the family room. I've been searching for a few things today.

First, the remote control to the DVD player--missing at least 10 days. Found that.

Second, Middle Sister's magenta water bottle (soon to be MY magenta water bottle since she has decided she likes my turquoise water bottle better. I really don't care as long as once we straighten this out, NOBODY ELSE drinks out of MY bottle. I'm territorial that way.) Found that.

But now I think it's time to call in the Big Guns. Yes, St. Anthony, I need some help. Little Brother has lost a good half-dozen of his Bakugan toys, and another little boy who was playing here last week lost one of his. I swear there's a black hole somewhere in my family room.

The upside is, all that "detail vacuuming" is getting done while I search.