Friday, September 25, 2009

You know your house is messy when...

Your three-year old looks at the clutter, looks at you and says, "Mommy, I don't like this." Yikes. In our defense, the clutter has been created by organizing every closet, flat surface and room in the house. Unfortunately, this means pulling things out, putting them on the floor so we can see them and sorting them into piles: junk, recycle, donate, keep. But, since we have very little time in the evenings and so bloody much stuff, our organizing projects tend to languish on the floor overnight until the next day when we do have time. Then there's the regular day-to-day maintenance work of cleaning the dishes, folding the laundry and so on that eats away even more time.

Even more unfortunately, my husband has so far been uninvolved in the organization process, meaning that it's going much slower since you have someone with limited energy reserves and increased sleep needs doing the work. That's going to change. Tonight.

I had hoped to meet some friends for drinks and dinner, but I don't think we'll be able to get a babysitter, so we might just stay home and clean. My husband will hate it, but he'll do it because he wants this place organized just as much as I do, but is often stymied by indecision on where to start. I can take care of that.

Anyway, you may wonder what I'm doing writing a post in the middle of the morning. Or you may not care. Sadly, I have not quit my job. But on the other hand, I'm working at home before I do a seminar on Medicare at a local community college this afternoon. I desperately needed a break - I'm reading the Senate Finance Committee bill that was released on the 16th. It's slow-going. With the proposal (220 pages) and the actual bill (600-odd pages), it's enough to cause instant insomnia. So I stopped for food and to make some coffee.

I was also really glad to stay home this morning because I got to see Ragsy before his apple-picking field trip. He's been waiting impatiently all week to wear a shirt that he designed at pre-school (apple-shaped sponges dipped in red paint on a white shirt) specially for the field trip. He also loves apples. I was thrilled because he's so passionate about the things he likes. He woke up late (8 a.m., the equivalent of him sleeping 'til noon) because he kept trying to climb into bed with us at 1 a.m. As soon as I went into his room to get him out of bed and reminded him what day today was, he threw his hands up in joy, then threw himself at me for a huge hug, all the while yelling, "Yay! I'm going apple picking!" Then he danced down the hall, delighted to get his clothes and shoes on (another rarity - he loves pajamas) and couldn't stop dancing long enough to drink his milk. He then danced out the door with Daddy, granola bar clutched in one hand, the other hand (and his hips) doing a pre-schooler's version of the Charleston.

I love that. It's moments like those that I live for. That and those rare minutes I manage to snatch with my husband alone in a quiet room. Anyway, back to work. This bill isn't going to read itself, though I wish to God it would. Yuck.

1 comment:

flatflo said...

I remember pumpkin hunting with him last year...he didn't seem too into it last year, more interested in the play land. Maybe this will be the Great Pumpkin year for him!

RE: the organization:

It is always darkest before the dawn. It is always messier before the unclutter. Hang in there, chica.