A 7 Month, 4 Minute and 36 Second Project

Why do I do these things?

Or not do them.

Last spring (y’know, TWO seasons ago), I had the great idea to spiff up my daughter’s room for her sixth birthday.  I bought some cute stuff I knew she would love.  Stuff that matched her funky-colors doll house she got last Christmas.

Yep.  I’m a mom with fabulous ideas.

But . . . her birthday was in April.  The same weekend as Easter.  And she specifically requested to go to a restaurant that’s three hours away from our house.

We’re not usually the satisfy-a-child’s-every-whim kind of parents, but since it was a long weekend anyway and the restaurant is on the way to my parents’ lakehouse . . . we decided to oblige her crazy request and go.

And our church did an Easter production that I directed.

Which meant I was working on that, running around like crazy woman, right up until the moment we left for the lake.

So that was my excuse for why I bought her another present and didn’t even try to redo the room as a big surprise that weekend. 

Not sure what my excuses were for the other more-than-200 days. 

Probably something about how the stuff was in Hubby’s trunk and how I so rarely look in there.  And how even though I felt intense guilt every time I looked in there, those times never seemed to coincide with a time when her room was actually clean.

So I couldn’t see the point.

Anyway, we worked in her room last weekend and I went out and grabbed her “new” comforter.  She loved it.  Then I showed her the cutesy-as-can-be curtains, and even took one out of its package.

Only to realize that there was no curtain rod in her room anymore.

Which caused me to fear this project was now going to take another seven months to complete. 

But what do you know? I happened upon the curtain rod aisle at Target yesterday.  Imagine my surprise when I saw that the kind we needed only cost a whole $2.47. Even I couldn’t come up with an excuse to not buy it right then and there.

And then today, I actually put it up.

7 months of mommy guilt and 4 minutes and 36 seconds of total effort.

Ugh.

 

___________________________________________________

See that ad down there?  It’s connected to my affiliate link, and regular shipping on those 10 free cards is only 5.99 in the U.S.

I’m sorry.  This offer has now expired.

 

 

 

 

Share

My Double Standard

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that I’m thirty-eight years old.  Because the temptation to pout like a four year old can just be so strong.

I mentioned on Monday that our fridge died last week.  I was NOT in the mood to shop for a new one, and didn’t properly adjust my attitude before I headed to the Second-Hand Fridge Store on Saturday morning.  Therefore, I had to hold myself back from dramatically slumping my shoulders and stomping one foot.

My issue?

Well . . . it wasn’t that they looked bad.  Really, every fridge I looked at was perfectly nice.

And it wasn’t even that they smelled bad.

It was just that they didn’t smell new.  Straight from the factory, never-housed-an-onion new.

Seriously.  I want perfection.

But . . . after a trip to the big/fancy store where I saw the prices of the straight-from-the-factory-scented versions, I realized that purchasing a used perfectly-good used fridge was the wisest choice.

As I got my own dead-for-four-days fridge ready for the Used Fridge Delivery Man to remove it, I realized how ridiculous my obsession with a perfect, unblemished, scent-free fridge was.

My fridge?  The one I’ve had for eleven years?  Definitely not perfect.

I cleaned it out, but I definitely wasn’t worried about getting it pristine for its trip to the dump.  I just wanted it to be non-humiliating.

For a girl who obsesses over a PERFECT used fridge, I sure don’t worry much about keeping my in-use one perfect.

Me and my double standards. Ugh.

And then, as I self-righteously (still, even after wiping out my own really-truly-icky used fridge) wiped down the looked-perfectly-clean-but-what-if-they’re-not shelves of my newly-delivered used fridge . . . my suspicions were confirmed!!!

The bottom crisper drawer?  It wasn’t cleanNot in the least! It looked like someone had done a half-hearted job of getting crumbs and particles of who-knows-what out of there, but he/she did NOT bother to scrub or shine or take any pride whatosoever in the state of his/her crisper drawer.

Then . . . a glimmer of recognition flickered across my Slob Brain.

This . . . was my drawer.

Yes.

My drawer.  The one I just “cleaned” ten minutes before.

Everything began to add up:

The fridges were the same size . . . .

The one I bought was missing a drawer in the store . . . .

He mentioned something about replacing it with a drawer from another fridge . . .

My guess is . . . since they needed to replace it anyway (and evidently forgot to replace it before arriving at my home) . . . it was  completely appropriate to replace it with my drawer.

Besides . . . I obviously don’t mind if it’s not perfectly and totally clean.

Hmmmph.  If they only knew!

 

Share

Why Does Honesty Always Involve Humility? (At least for me)

I’m over-committed.

That could possibly sound noble, while this is most certainly not noble:

Especially since the oft-repeated instruction in my e-book is “Do the dishes.”

I have a mostly-written post that I was going to put up today.  It’s all about how there is a limit to how much I can handle and how once I go over that limit, certain things get shoved out of my brain.

But then this morning (this first-Thursday-in-a-long-time-when-I-didn’t-have-a-writing-deadline-as-a-great-excuse), I knew I had to spend time (real time) on my house.

Especially in the kitchen.

Because even though I know how important the kitchen is to the state of the rest of the house, and even though I know that for my brain I have to run the dishwasher every night and empty it first thing every morning, I still got off my rhythm in the past few weeks and that picture up there happened.

So while I wished I could have done some major cleaning on this first-free-day-in-forever, I was stuck catching up in the kitchen.

And when that was done, I decided to tackle this:

Which was also a huge frustration since I had been doing so much better at avoiding Clean Laundry Mountain.  But give me a week of being out of the house every day working on our church’s Easter production, and another Laundry Day that was also a day-out-of-the-routine because Hubby and the kids were off, and it was as if no progress had been made at all in those previous weeks.

Grrrrr.

But now the sink is empty, a whole-lotta big dishes are drying, and the couch is once again usable.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I DID take this after picture from the spot where I was writing and didn’t bother to clear the coffee table or pick up the dryer sheet or last lone napkin first.

I started out timing myself, but I’ll just tell you that these two tasks took the entire morning. Not that they needed to, but I wasn’t exactly putting much oomph into them.  And . . . there were multiple gotta-call-so-and-so or gotta-google-such-and-such distractions.  It’s amazing how my brain starts remembering things while I’m cleaning.

So there you have it.  Honesty.  Frustrating and humiliating honesty.  I would so love to become the blogger who smiles and acts like it’s easy to keep your house constantly in order “once you get the hang of it” but unfortunately, I doubt I ever will.

I’m thankful I’ve come a long way and that a morning spent folding laundry and washing dishes makes my house feel relatively under control.

Here’s the biggest chunk of honesty for this post: I didn’t want to blog about this. I wanted to casually mention that I’d spent the morning “catching up” so my readers wouldn’t get discouraged to see that Nony still struggles at the very most basic of the basics.

But that goes against my reason for this blog.  And I hope ultimately, someone can gain hope that it’s still possible to keep chugging along after you fail one . . . more . . . time.

Pre-blog, I didn’t have that hope.

 

Share
--Nony

© 2009 - 2013 A Slob Comes Clean All rights reserved. | Blog Header and Button design by Many Little Blessings.