First, let me say that in my non-expert opinion, there is no real definition for normal. If you have in-laws or have been a guest for more than two nights in someone’s home, you know this.
People are all unique.
So, having stated that no one is truly normal, let me define “normal” for the purposes of this blog. My husband recommended that I write this post because it seems that lately, when I refer to non-slobs as “normal,” a misunderstanding happens.
First, you have to understand that . . . I think I’m funny.
I recently overheard someone say condescendingly, “Well, y’know . . . everybody thinks they’re funny.”
My in-my-head response? Yeah, maybe . . . but I really am funny.
I think that my regular readers know when I’m trying to be funny. But new readers might not realize it at first, and could understandably be offended if I refer to something they might do, as something “normal” people wouldn’t do, and therefore they feel like I’m saying they’re not normal.
I’ll clarify that . . . I have no desire to be normal. I have taught my children from birth that we have no interest, as a family, in being like other people just for the sake of being like other people. We want to do what’s right, we want to have fun, and we want to be creative. Basically, who cares what other people do?
But, in the interest of helping any new-to-my-blog readers feel the welcoming acceptance that I want them to feel here, I’ll share some examples of what I mean when I call people normal.
Normal people open a can of spinach and immediately throw away the lid.
People like me see the lid hanging from the magnet on the can opener, pull it off, examine it to determine that it was spinach, and then stare into space for a moment, attempting to recall the last time they served spinach.
Normal people trip over a pair of shoes, think “Who left that there?” and feel irritation as they put the shoes away.
People like me trip over a pair of shoes, think “Ugh, I need to move those,” and then forget about them completely until the next time they trip over them.
Normal people walk into the laundry room and think, “When did that stack of clothes fall over?”
People like me use their full body weight to get the laundry room door to shut because that’s easier than sifting through the dirty clothes, used-to-be-clean-until-they-fell-over clothes, shopping bags, etc.
Normal people ask first-time-guests if they would like a tour of their home.
People like me lock their master bedroom door and instruct their children to direct guests to a specific bathroom.
I could go on . . . .
As I’ve explained before, a big part of this “coming clean” process was me being honest with myself. I had to accept that my brain works differently from those people whose homes seemed to always be presentable.
Not perfect, just presentable.
And I’ll take my brain, with all of its quirks, any day of the week. I’m glad I’m creative. I’m glad big projects and parties and plays energize me and give me tunnel vision.
It’s who I am, and I’m good with that.
But I’m not good with having to open the door only as far as it takes for me to squeeze myself outside and talk to a friend. I’m not good with wanting to cry because I realize that the one load of laundry I actually completed that week contained one-too-few pairs of undies. I’m not good with having enough energy to do a craft project with the kids . . . . but not enough energy to declutter the table before we can start.
So I’m finding ways to make my home livable that work for my brain. It’s one of the reasons I don’t read tons of organizing advice. Generally, the people who love to give organizing advice are the people who love organizing. Their brains are different than mine. While I’ve found some great ideas that I have been able to implement, I’ve found many that only served to overwhelm me.
I know I try to avoid giving advice, but here’s some.
You’re not normal. You’re you. Be you. Enjoy being you, and figure out what works for you.
This doesn’t mean we accept that “that’s just how I am” and quit trying to be better, it means that we accept how we are and find ways to improve our homes that work for us.
Could someone give me a hand getting down from this soapbox?--Nony