Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Organizing...does it make you ugly like housework does????? Yikes

I have been working on my used to be Living Room/ Dining Room now designated as the "crap" room and finally have finished the organizing of the "crap". Even have plans to put up a door for privacy tomorrow night while SM is in Sacramento. Oh no.

When I was a young Mom, I vacillated between being a pig housekeeper and a neat freak. I would go for long periods of time where a "lick and a promise" was good enough figuring we wouldn't die from the mess. And then I would be visited by the obsessive compulsive fairy and end up staying up all night, cleaning every drawer, cupboard, cabinet and shelf and making everyone in the house nutz.

Shelley has a complaint, and rightfully so, that I used to even make her clean up for Santa Claus. She told me, when she was 7 that she was sure that Santa Claus saw messy houses on his visits and that I shouldn't be embarrassed. Out of the mouths of baby snarks. But I would have her clean her room anyway. We'd change her sheets and have everything nice and tidy for the fat man. I figured if I got a running start on the hysterical mess from Christmas by having the basics done I'd be good.

Well that has come back to bite me in the butt. She now is the clean up gestapo and I am so far beyond that now that I have to shake my head and say okay hitler just save the pieces. Not that I don't like for things to be "clean" but my vision of that has changed with years of the obsessive compulsive swings.

So if I tell you how surprised I am that the crap room is clean, you can understand. I can't believe I actually know where stuff is. I have my supplies, fabric, yarn, sparklies, paints, brushes, tools all neatly compartmentalized in plastic boxes, with labels, on shelves. This is a first. Even before the kids came I didn't have a clue what was what, or where I kept it.

Yeah for me. I can hear the clock ticking, the sun is shining, incense burning, and I'm here with you instead of in there making a mess. Gotta go ya'll.