To Whom...

Dear Messy House,
Would you please SHUT UP!!!! I know you are messy, I know you need to be cleaned. There is no reason to spread jelly on my foot or hide dirty diapers under my bed. Enough already! I know the laundry needs to be rotated but your mildewy smell won't give me an extra hour every day to get to it. Yes, the counters need to be wiped, but getting butter on my son's homework isn't the polite way to get my attention. And is it too much for me to ask that you not tip over my piles of paper? I will eventually go through them, and you are just making it worse with your temper tantrums. If you really want me to clean you then I suggest you break my TV, disconnect my internet, drain all my phone batteries, lock my toddler in a closet, and burn all my books.
Sincerly,
Liz

It's All In the Pattern

Blogger is thwarting my good blogging intentions. It knows I have nothing of substance to write and so it mocks me by not allowing me to upload cute photos of my kids.

AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH! What to do, what to do. I know, I'll look through my old unpublished drafts and find something. Ah, here we go, another post about my endless search for a resolution to my eternal chores-with-kids problem. I never did try it, but maybe I should.

From July 21st, 2008:
Do you ever get stuck in a rut, find you've been going about things the wrong way, or discover that "your way" really isn't the only way? I've never considered myself as a One Way kind of gal until my most recent epiphany. I've really been struggling with the lack of activities that my children and I do these days. I know I have been pregnant and just had a baby but this has been going on far longer than either of those excuses will allow for. The big problem is that we never seem able to get our chores done. We do our chores every day, they just never seem to get DONE. This gets in the way of doing fun things because I'm a stickler for getting our work done before we play. But if the work never gets done the fun never starts, and that is... well, it's just no fun!



So, here is my thought on this: it is all really just a big pattern, ie: work, play, work, play, work, play (with rest intermingled). Well, what if I keep the pattern but remove the first step? That would make it: play, work, play, work, play, work. What if we played first and worked last? What if we woke up, ate breakfast, got dressed, and left the house to have some fun, or stayed home and did something fun or creative? Then we could eat lunch, take a nap/have quiet time, and then clean right before Mr. Hotness came home from work? This way he would always see a clean house, and then it would be time for bed before they could really mess it up again. By George, it just might work, right? RIGHT? Come on, people, give me some hope here.

I wrote this last summer right after having Cheeks but I think it could still work during school hours. If we go out to play right after school and come home to do homework and chores right before dinner the kids wouldn't have as many opportunities to mess up the place. Right? RIGHT?

Maybe I should just give up and hire a maid. I'm sure if we gave up eating we could afford one. And that would solve my weight gain dilema too. Two birds with one stone, eh?u

What good draft posts do you have lying around?

The Family That Slaves Together...

I have a new love in my life. I feel ashamed to admit this love because it makes me sound so old, so conventional, so "MOM." But when it's love there is no denying it, so I'm here to shout it from the roof tops, "I LOVE YOU, NEW CHORE CHART!!!" I first saw this chore chart on Pioneer Woman's site (and you know that anything she likes is going to be good) and I just knew I had to have it. But doubt kept holding me back. Would this chore chart love me back? Would it stay with me through the tough times? Would it understand me and my weaknesses? And most importantly, would my kids approve of my new love? For months I simply stalked it, dreamed about it every night, until I could take it no longer and simply had to make my feelings known. How would I ever know if this chore chart could love me if I didn't show it how I really felt? So I whipped out my VISA and promptly proposed marriage to it.

My mom says chore charts are like diet books. They always sound great in theory, but rarely do any long term good in reality. And I have to say that, for the most part, she is right. This chore chart started out like any diet. The first day was amazing. We did it all. We sweated and slaved to meet the requirements. And, like I do with every new diet, I called my mom and my sister to rave to them about our new regime, about how good it made me feel, about all my hopes and dreams. And then I woke up the next morning with the usual change-your-life-hangover. My body wanted so badly for me to go back to my lazy ways. But I refused to give in so soon. I quickly called my sister for back up and she talked me through that second day so that I could stay strong. On the third day I called my mom for support. And everyday after that I called one of those amazing women so that they could talk me through my glutinous, lazy urges and see me to another day of chore chart success. Slowly it went from "hard to do" to just a way of life.

And I have to say, I love love love this chore chart. It is flexible, user friendly, visually helpful, and seems to work for us. For a really good look at all it has go read the Pioneer Woman's review. She has like a zillion pics of it so I'm not going to even try.

This is how I made it work.

1. Read all the instructions that come with it, get it all set up. Try to put it in a place where you will see it often, where the kids can access it, but where it is least likely to be pulled down or destroyed. I spent a whole day searching for a spot like this, they are hard to find.

2. Sit the family down and explain it. Let them know that this is about learning, that it is supposed to be hard, and that it is going to actually be more work for you (the mom) because instead of just doing the chores really fast yourself you are going to have to work with each kid as you teach them new skills.

3. The idea of the play money incentive is that eventually the child should feel self motivated to earn the money. Yeah, that is not going to happen the first week. I told my kids that the first week I would still nag, and even yell, in order to get them to finish their chores so they could all earn their money. The second week I would give reminders and nag a little but no yelling (I don't know why my boys need me to yell before they actually do stuff). Then the third week I would only give 3 reminders, and after that they are on their own. If they earn the money, fine, if they don't no sweat.

4. Some kids will choose not to earn. It's the way kids are. So, the deal is that money is a reward for a job WELL done and a good attitude. The kids are still required to get their jobs done everyday, but they don't earn any dollars if they don't meet the requirements. If they choose not to do any chores at all they loose any and all privileges (computer, TV, trampoline, picking a movie at the library, etc).

5. There are blank cards that you can customize. Use these to add any jobs that aren't provided. I added things like sweeping the stairs, collecting dirty laundry, and cleaning computer/TV screens. But I also got creative and added fun things like write your brother a love note, make everyone in the family laugh at least once today, write a story to tell the family after dinner, etc. I try to use at least one of these a week to help keep the chore chart fresh and alive, and to remind us that this whole program is about family.

6. I also like to mix up the dollar awards every now and then. If one child is particularly helpful and sweet I will give them an extra dollar, and we give an extra one on birthdays as well. I'm even thinking of letting the kids buy off a chore. So if they don't want to clean toilets maybe they can pay me 2 dollars to do it for them. And we have one big, expensive reward they can all chip-in to buy for a family day at "Fun Factor" (a building full of inflatable slides, boxing rings, ball pits, and adult headaches).

It's a pricey chore chart at $19.00 after shipping, but for me it has been totally worth it. If you have the time and inclination you could probably make one of these yourself. I thought about doing that... then I had a real good laugh and bought it from Christianbook.com because they sold it for the cheapest price.

Ah....Ah.....

WA-CHOOO!!!

My nose itches so bad from all the dust, mold, and cleaners that I've been inhaling for the past 3 days.

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I am supposed to be in NY right now. I am supposed to be frantically looking for a new place to move our huge family in 3 weeks. I am supposed to be getting dressed up for dinners in the Big Apple, and be alone with my husband in a hotel room every night, while my mom watches my kids here in Seattle. *sigh*

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Instead I'm still here, trying not to freak out, because we are STILL waiting to hear from the relocation manager. So, instead of wearing make-up and clean clothes and testing water pressure and asking about square footage, I've been sneezing my brains out while frantically cleaning, sorting, and majorly de-junking. See this pile of J-unk?

This is all the stuff that has been littering my downstairs for 4 years now. Why-o-why did I not get rid of it sooner? You should see how open and clean it is down there now. Saturday we are going to have a huge yard sale and try to con others into taking it by selling it for dirt cheap.

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Anyone need a futon, or 10 packs of flash cards, or maybe you could use 3,789 books. If so, come on over Saturdaaaaaa-ACHOO! Oh, forget it, I'm going to bed. I'd really rather be in NY eating pizza right now.

Blankets

I love the sounds of my children working together.




"LOOK OUT BELOW!"
Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk. "That was awesome! Do it again."
"Ok, just wait while I set the blankets up again."

Several minutes go by in quiet, and intense, industry. Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk. "Weeeeeeeeeeee... Did you see how fast I went?"

"Lets try it on our pillows this time, then we can go extra fast!" "Ok! I'll go get them." "While you guys get the pillows I'll get it set up again." "Wow, that looks great. This will be the best one ever." "Wait, Monster Man hasn't had his turn yet." "Oh yeah, go ahead."
Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, THUNK!

Apparently they will cooperate with each other for several hours when it comes to achieving maximum speeds while sliding down the stairs into a massive pile of blankets. Now if only I could get them to direct that same group effort into actually cleaning up the downstairs.

*sigh*

Feelings and Bad Photos

I take really bad photos, but that won't stop me from hurting your eyes as I share today's thoughts with you.

Sweet, jeweled colored sweet potatoes (not yams), how I love thee. These makes me smile in culinary anticipation.

These make me feel wicked... wicked and happy.

This makes me want to curse Gary all over again. Stoopid Gary.

These make me almost feel like forgiving Gary. Cheating can be a beautiful thing.

These make my mouth water. Stuffing really is the best part of Thanksgiving dinner (when it's done right, that is.)

This has always and will always make me shudder in fear, nervousness, and hypochondria.

Do they think calling it Young makes it any more appealing? Why don't they just call it Virgin Turkey, or Baby Turkey, or Innocent Turkey? I'm sorry Turkey.


And this.... this just make me nauseous.

What are your feelings this Thanksgiving season?

Attack of the Tupperware

When you were little was there ever a part of the house you were afraid of? Like the scary basement, the dark attic, or under your bed? When I was little I was terrified of *dun dun dun* the Tupperware cupboard. Anytime I had to put in or take out a piece of Tupperware I would stand before the cabinet door, taking deep breathes in an attempt to steel myself against the creeping panic, clench my fist in determination, count to three and HURRY HURRY OPEN THE DOOR GRAB OR THROW WHAT YOU NEED SLAM SLAM SLAM IT SHUT BEFORE IT ALL COMES TOPPLING OUT IN A MAD PLASTIC AVALANCHE OF DOOM!!!


Obviously it was traumatic. Well, I'm here to stop the vicious cycle of child Tupperware abuse. I'm here to break the chains of plastic hoarding and set my kitchen cabinets free. Today I prevent any child from ever having panic attacks at the mere thought of opening The Tupperware Cabinet.

Release your inner Tupperware demons! Your children will thank you.

Like Mother Like Daughter

Here is my latest dejunking purge.

When I was 16 my family moved from Saratoga, NY all the way to Ashton, Idaho. We stayed with my grandpa while my mom looked for a new place to live because my dad was dying. Ashton is a very small old railroad town with not much to do for a bored and disturbed teenager besides swimming in the ditch and eating huckleberry milkshakes. Wandering and bored I did a lot of snooping around my grandpa's house, but I was cautious and timid in my snooping because we were raised to fear our grandfather and respect his house and privacy. So I would open closets, cupboards, and drawers only touching a few items before hastily shutting them again. I will never forget opening a drawer in the upstairs bedroom. It was a drawer crammed full of old (very vintage), used, and carefully folded wrapping paper. Paper that my frugal grandmother had saved from gifts she had been given long long ago. Grandma died when I was 9. Later I learned that she saved much more than wrapping paper and everything that came her way was reused or saved with the hopes of getting just one more use out of it. She would have put any modern envioronmentalist to shame with the way she reduced reused and recycled everyday trash.

My mom inherited grandma's saving tendencies and passed them down to me. Sadly my "tendencies" aren't as romantic as a drawer full of beautiful old paper, mine are just out right pack ratty. I save all sorts of junk in the hopes that it will save me money down the road. I hoard all kinds of things for art crafts that I never do. I stash all manner of sewing novelties and scraps for the custom art jeans I plan on making and selling someday but have yet to make a single pair. I save bags, boxes, and every manner of product packaging container hoping they will make me organized but I forget I have them and they are such odd pieces that they would never help with organizaton anyway.


I've recently had the desire to use or unload all this k-rap (see Cookie, Mommy isn't using that really naguhty word anymore. Spelt with a k is something completely different) and have been on a dejunking spree and my mom has joined me. My mother, the queen pack rat of our family, though, is doing what many proffessionals tell packrats all the time. If you feel you need it, just take a picture of it. Pictures take up much less space than the actual item. Well, she ids doing just that and posting them on a blog to boot. So, if you have voyeristic tendencies and have always wanted to know what kind of junk hides in a pack rat's house and why they keep it then stop on by DOTMOTHER and cheer her on as she frees herself from her junk.


And mom, if you can toss yours then I can toss mine. It's scary that we have identical junk.

Here I am tossing out all those plastic zip up bags that bedding (and some toys) come it. I was saving them to use for organizing or for moving, neither of which has happened in 4 years (and I didn't use them when we moved 4 years ago either, I shoved them in a box with everything else).

Works For Me

Halloween Countdown Ghost

After answering the question, "How many more days till Halloween?" like a trazillionmillion times each day I was starting to get a little short tempered with the kids. Rather than bite their heads off I had them help me make this cute ghost counter. Every day they cut a ring off and the next ring tells them how many days are left till Halloween. Haven't heard the question since. Now they just like to report how many days are left to me like a trazillionmillion times each day. We are definitely making one of these for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Hanging Shelves

I think these are one of the greatest organization tools out there. You can install them in a snap, move them around at will, and store them in a small space when not in use. I have one hanging in Mr. Hot's office closet holding my fabric, there is one in my son's closet where we shelve prepicked outfits for him to wear to school each day (saves SO much time in the mornings), and here are the two I have hanging in my mud room. One is for shoes and the other holds hats and gloves. Each kid gets their own assigned shelves and this saves me so many headaches when it is time for us to get ready to head out the door in the mornings. LOVE THEM!

For other great ideas check out Works For Me Wednesday over at Rocks in My Dryer.

Death of a Quilt

Here is my latest Dejunking purge:

The sad thing is that I have only gone through 1/4 of the house. There is plenty more to be gone through, but already I can see a difference. Already I'm doing laundry more routinely as we run out of clothes more quickly.

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But that isn't what I'm here to talk to you about today. Today I want to discuss a very serious subject with you. It will be hard to talk about for some of you. Maybe some of you will use denial but we all have to face this subject sooner or later. You know what I'm talking about, we all have some stashed away somewhere. It's that piece of junk that you keep trying to throw away, you know you should throw away, family members have begged you to throw away, but you just can't. You can't because that junk MEANS something to you. You worry that if you toss it it will come back to haunt you. So you hang on to it, hoping that someday you will be able to resurrect it, use it, or somehow validate its existence once again. Yeah, I'm talkin' about THAT junk. Nasty, vile stuff. It preys on our emotions, using our memories and our guilt as a defense to keep its self alive. But it isn't alive. If an object is no longer useful or being used, if it embarrasses you to have others see it, if you spend more time storing/moving/hiding it than you do loving it then it is D-E-A-D dead. This explains all the skeletons hiding in my closets. Well, if my mom can get rid of her "perfectly good" ball of clay (seriously mom, that pic gives me the heeby jeebies), then I think I can finally bury my precious quilts.

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Fellow bloggers, we are gathered here today to pay our respects to Fuzzy #1 and Opus.

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Fuzzy #1, you were lovingly made by Mr. Hotness' mom and you were so fuzzy that Mr. Hotness loved you over all others. I know there were times that I was jealous of you. I admit to hiding you a few times, and I was constantly teasing Mr. Hotness about your existence. But you were a good quilt, and we used you well. I held on to you, hoping to turn you into a refurbished quilt. But, alas, I am lazy and you are dead.

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GoodbyeFuzzy #1.

Opus, oh Opus. You used to wear a flashy red bow tie at your neck. My boyfriend made you for me many many years ago. Remember that? It was the year when we all made quilts for each other. Oh, Opus, you squat little penguin from Bloom County, how I love you. As the only quilt ever made for me by a man I consider you a rarity that should be bronzed and hung in a museum for all to appreciate. Unfortunately I am so very lazy that I couldn't even manage to recover you. It is time to say adieu.

* (sniff sniff) Opus, please, I beg of you, don't look at me like that.

Less

Ok, here are the first round of pictures:

I think these books that I'm tossing have a hint of irony in their titles, don't you? The very books that preach the principle of lessness become victims of my purge. I'm still keeping my Don Aslett Clutter's Last Stand though. That book is golden.

Now I'm going to start on the clothes and toys and that should equal at least 2 more garbage bags, if not more.

Oh, and if you live close by and want to come rummage through this stuff before I donate it you have until noon tomorrow to do so. I have playtex baby bottles, cookbooks, megablocks, brio trains, lincoln log accessories, etc, etc, etc. Think of it as a free yard sale. =)

Today I want my cup to be half empty. I want everything to be half empty, like my closet, my shelves, my corners, the toy box, the laundry room, my dinner plate, etc...

Pictures are coming soon but this is taking longer than I thought. I've also had to stop my dejunking tirade to help a neighbor of mine. Because of unemployment, and a teetering pile of other family issues, this family of 7 has to be out of their house by 9am this morning. All last night we were taking van loads of boxes and stuff to friends' houses and to a storage unit. If anything was going to help refuel my desire to get rid of stuff this certainly did. Mind you, the mother held 2 yard sales and has has a continual pile of FREE stuff outside her house for the past 2 weeks. Yet I could not believe the amount of things being shipped and moved around. But as I judgementally sniffed at the items they were keeping I suddenly imagined some poor sucker having to move my junk and seeing what I thought was so important I had to burden their back with it and it made me just that much more anxious to toss more stuff.

So, hopefully I will have some pictures on here in the next few hours. However, if any of you have decided to dejunk with me and you are more on the ball than I am and have a post to share, please do. I haven't been able to figure out that elusive Mr Linky thing-a-ma-jig, but just leave a comment and I will add your post link to this post. Thanks!

The Yummy Box

See this box? This beautiful, vibrant, red, Good Humor Variety Pack, never ending, ice cream box? This is my happy box. Just like the picture on the front, it's like having my own personal ice cream truck delivering non-stop smiles from my freezer. If you haven't ever experienced this magical box, I highly suggest that do so, and soon.

Oh, and so far I have 3 garbage bags full and ready for donating, one room gutted and clean, and laundry almost completely done so that I can donate more than half of all clothing in the house. It feels so good (or is that the ice cream talking?).

Less

Less is more, which, according to the law of inverse, means that more is less.

Right now I have way too much more.

I have so much more that I have way too much less. I want more less so that I can have more more. Understand? Good. Right. For example, right now I have more clothes, which means more laundry, which means less time with my children. I want less clothes, less laundry and more time with my children.

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Here is a list of what I have too much more of and the less they create:

Clothes=less time for more enjoyable activities

Piles of clutter=less room in my home

Unfinished projects=less space in my closets

Body weight=less health, less physical ability, less energy, less positive self image

Sitting on my butt=less accomplished in life

Junk=less pride in my surroundings

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Now, if I could have less of those above items I might get more of these:

Time

Space

Peace

Joy

Liberty

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And who wouldn't want more of that? Thus I have decided to start a crusade in the name of lessness. I'm going to go way above and beyond the usual box or two to Goodwill. I'm talking serious lessness here. Here is the game plan:

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On October 3rd I will post photos of all the junk I get rid of.

On October 10th I will post before and after photos of gutted closets and corners.

On October 17th I will post start-again and finished or tossed to the curb photos of projects that have been hiding in my closets for years.

On October 24th I will post the average amount of less-hours I spend sitting down.

And on October 31st, while everyone is rifling through their children's Halloween candy (at least I know I will be), I will post any weight I will hopefully have lost.

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I will warn you ahead of time, I am a closet pack rat and the pictures are going to be very graphic. No knick-knack will be spared, no half-finished cross stitch will see mercy, and my computer chair will gather dust!!! If you care to join the Less Crusade I will put up a Mr. Linky for these Friday posts so we can all share our lesses.

Post Partum Pity Party

Welcome to Lizzy's Post Partum Pity Party!!!

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Grab yourself a bowl of cheetos, a pint of ice cream, and have a seat. If your not in the mood to sit and listen to me moan about my silly little troubles then feel free to watch a movie. Here at the PPP Party we watch mid-twentieth century dramas such as Gentleman's Agreement, Come Back, Little Sheba, or Imitation of Life. No happy endings here, just good ol', rip your heart out drama. And, trust me, the movies are much better than my silly sob story. But, if you are a glutton for punishment then just keep on reading.

I've been so good this time around. I've done my best to avoid the post partum blues and I've made it this far unscathed, but today I give up. Today I'm letting the self pity overcome me. Today I'm throwing myself a regular pity party, complete with the works. I even let my kids eat cheetos for breakfast because I believe it's the little details that make the party.

Why am I so blue? Has there been a death in the family, illness, scandal? Has my husband been fired, cheating, or just plain mean? Have my children been misbehaving, making messes, or run away from home? Na. Nothing quite so validating is going on here. Nope, I'm just feeling sorry for myself because I want to. Because I have nothing to wear that isn't too small for me, maternity, or covered in puke/poop. Because I got my house cleaned spick and span last weekend (and I mean SPICK and span) and today it looks like a fuddy-duddy-mother-of-too-many-who-watches-soaps-all-day-long-in-her-mumu kind of house. Because today I almost cried over the spilt milk. Because it was half a gallon of spilt milk and I couldn't find any rags to mop it up because I'm behind in the laundry that was all caught up last weekend. Because Ben & Jerry's is so much easier to eat while holding a baby than chopping veggies for a fresh green salad. Because I want to wake up at 5am to go running before the kids wake up but the thought of loosing just one more hour of sleep makes me want to cry. Because by the time I get Cheeks asleep Mr. Hotness is asleep so I'm left drooling over a car of all things. And because... well... BECAUSE I WANT TO!!!

So, while you are all posting something witty on your amazing blogs, I'm going to go gnaw the cheeto scrudge off my fingers. Enjoy the party. =)

MUST. HAVE. IT.

My blogging has been pretty pell mell as of late. Cheeks has been pretty cheeky and keeps me from doing much of anything these days (though he actually slept in this morning and allowed to me to talk to my kids this morning over a lovely meal of pancakes, eggs, and strawberries. Usually my kids are left eating last night's remnants off the floor for breakfast... Uh, you know I'm kidding right? Because, really, they only did that once. I swear!!!!).

Lucky for... well, pretty much everyone including me, there are a gazillion other blogs out there to read. I've been reading all your blogs while rocking, nursing, and cleaning up puke, I just don't usually get a chance to leave comments.

Here is something I read this morning (I type this one handed as I balance a bottle under my chin into Cheeks' face), and now I must have it. Must!

CHOREGANIZER

I've seen/made/bought so many chore charts that I was absolutely convinced that there was an anti chore chart genome in my family's DNA. But this looks as if someone has studied my family and custom made a chore system just for me. MUST HAVE IT!!!

I prepared myself for the sticker shock. Anytime I find something that is perfect for me it is always too expensive for my penny pinching brain to accept. But at the Book Peddler I can get it for just $16.95. And it comes with everything, EVERYTHING, premade and ready to use. Man, that costs less than those pretty (pretty useless in my family) little wooden chore charts with a cute beehive that has little bees with your family's names on them rotating around the chores.

Maybe if I buy this my kitchen will finally be too clean to eat off the floor any more. Or do you use that phrase to mean your floor is clean? Because when I say you can eat off my floor it's because there is a three course meal, on my floor.

Good Intentions

Good intentions, aren't those what the road to you-know-where is paved with? I believe it. Cheeks fussed all morning, pigged out, and then fell into a deep sleep. I knew this sleep equated to a golden opportunity and I wanted to make the most of it. My choices were:

A) Take a MUCH needed shower.
B) Eat some ice cream and read.
C) Fold laundry and do a load of dishes.
D) Play with my kids.
E) Do something sweet for my husband

This was a toughie until I remembered that poor Mr. Hotness has been very neglected by me these past few weeks, so I decided on (E). Aren't I sweet? I decided to iron the shirt and pants that have been hanging on his magic ironing hook for the past 6 weeks (apparently even magic hooks take maternity leave). That went quickly enough and I felt so benevolent that I decided to finally sew the missing button onto the shirt that has been waiting for, oh, about 12 months (I have yet to give Mr. Hotness a magic sewing hook). I have the shirt, the button, the needle, all I need is some tan colored thread. No problem, I have loads of thread. I have orange, neon orange, rust, and salmon. I have moss green, pine green, and old lady spearmint green; silver, fuchsia, puce, and even clear. I have black, white, red, and blue. Can you guess which color I don't have? While searching in multiple thread stashing areas I realize that my sewing desk is a complete and utter disaster. Some people have junk drawers, I have junk desks (and closets, and boxes, and corners, etc). I figure if I clean it out I just might find me some tan or at least off-white thread. Instead I find 4 year old valentines that were never sent, a half finished apron that I had started 6 years ago, 5 different telephone cords, the watch I had bought myself last year and had yet to take out of the package, half filled notebooks, a broken purse that I've been saving (for 3 years) so I can salvage the beads that are on it, and the list goes on.

Let's see now, I was going to sew a button on my husband's shirt at 11:16am. According to my new watch it is now 2:30pm. I have no tan thread but I have very clean desk drawers, 1 crying baby, 4 neglected children (thank you Cookie for making them some lunch), stinky arm pits, and... and... THIS:

Cheeks says, "Oh, mom, what were you thinking?!?"

But I had very good intentions!!!

Good Clean Parenting

I've mentioned before that I have had a hard time with my relationship with Cookie. I've been working on it for several years now, and today we had a lovely moment. We cleaned together. Now, I know this isn't a new idea, in fact it is one of the oldest parenting tricks in the book. But it can be very hard to do. Usually when I have the kids clean we all do it at the same time, and I act more as a task master than a parent in order to keep everyone in line. Or, I give them their job and I move to another room to clean. I actually really don't like being near my kids when they are cleaning because I have zero patience when it comes to whining. I'd rather they whine to an empty room and avoid any confrontations. Either way, cleaning has never been a bonding moment for me and the kids.

Today was different. Today I really needed to get my living room deep cleaned and I really needed help to get it done. I asked Cookie to help, and she showed little enthusiasm but tried her best not to whine. It went as usual for the first 30-45 minutes, but as we kept digging deeper and went beyond the usual living room duties her attitude began to change. Rather than feeling like a slave, she began to feel like a valued helper, like an equal. We began to chat as we cleaned. We talked about our dream bedroom, about what kind of cleaning we preferred to do (we even switched jobs at that point when we realized that we were both doing a job that the other preferred), I shared memories of cleaning with my mom, and we talked about how REAL cleaning makes us feel good inside. We moved furniture, we dusted, we polished, we sorted, we rearranged the whole room. In the end we both sat back and admired our work while slapping a high five. It was wonderful.

I was quickly reminded, after, why I don't usually clean like this. While Cookie and I were bonding Sweet Terror spilled bubble solution all over the place downstairs, and Monster Man snuck a frozen yogurt pop downstairs and managed to dribble here and there. And now it is time for lunch and the younger kids are still in their PJ's. But it was worth it! I may not do this everyday, but I think this kind of cleaning should happen with each child at least once a month.

And, no, despite even moving furniture (very carefully) I have not gone into labor yet. But there is still much deep cleaning ahead... =)

Videos and Forced Nesting

My computer and my digital camera are one of those toxic couples that are always fighting and occasionally making up for a day or two. This means that every now and then I can actually get things to transfer from my camera to my computer, like these long overdue videos. So, Mom, Bugga, and the rest of the family, here are some videos that I've FINALLY been able to upload for you to see. Enjoy!

(ARE THESE VIDEOS WORKING FOR ANYONE? THEY DON'T SEEM TO BE WORKING FOR ME.)

Here is Cookie practicing the dance she learned at Activity Days Camp. They only had 3 hours to learn and perform it.

Pablo and Monster Man performing their amazing tricks in the hotel hot tub.

Sweet Terror and her bestest buddy showing off their bean shakers.

Now I am off to finally start preparing for this baby boy to come. For some reason I completely skipped over the usual "nesting" phase of pregnancy so nothing is ready. Last week I had a bad scare with contractions and I was terrified because I was so unprepared. So, now I must make room in the office for the crib, sort and wash baby clothes, pack a hospital bag, check out the hospital where I will be delivering, clean my bedroom (I still have a huge pile of non-maternity clothes sitting on the floor in a corner), buy a new hat (I always don a baseball cap right after delivering and my current favorite is in absolute shreds), and clean the rest of this place so that I won't freak out of I have to call a friend to come over in the middle of the night. Maybe all this work will put me into labor. I'm going to pack my hospital bag first, just in case. =)

What are you doing to start your week today?

Scientific Method

I have been conducting an experiment this past month. Others might say I've just been lazy beyond belief but I was just working undercover so as not to influence the test subjects (Did you know that fuzzy bathrobes make for great camouflage?).

Scientific Method requires a question, a hypothesis, an experiment, recorded outcome, and conclusion

Question: What gives my children more joy?

Hypothesis: Oh, who am I trying to kid. I knew the answer all along but was really enjoying being lazy.

Experiment: Let children glut themselves on toys, games, and movies. Leave them free to play by not having them do any chores. Let them live in their own filth. After an adequate amount of time for subjects to get used to situation suddenly have them do chores, clean, get rid of LOTS of their toys, games, and movies, and teach them new working skills.

WARNING: The following includes highly graphic and disturbing material. If you are judgemental or squeamish in any way please exit this window immediately and find a craft or recipe blog to read.

Record of experiment:

Week one: kids were fine, no one complained, house got messy, I watched many movies and gained 7 pounds, husband was a bit shocked.

Week two: kids still seem fine. Subject #1 walks around sighing a lot and subject #3 has been reverting to 3 year old types of mischief (drawing on younger sibling, furniture and walls). House continues to increase in messiness, a blockbuster movie is missing and we are being charged for the movie but I can't find it in all this mess. I read a book, watched 3 movies, checked all my regular blogs twice and then went looking for new blogs to read, gained 4 pounds and stopped feeding my children. Husband is quieter than usual.

Week 3: Kids are acting funny. They seem to enjoy fighting and whining and complain of being bored. Also, there language is being affected and they are using "bad" words like stupid, dummy head, fart, and buster (for some reason that last name made subject #1 cry). They say there is nothing fun to do and when I recommend cleaning they suddenly disappear. They ask to go to the park or to play computer games but there are firm rules about chores and such things. Kids apparently prefer being bored to cleaning. I have stopped cooking all together, have served cold cereal for dinner 3 times this week and ordered pizza another night. Laundry has not been done for 3 days and there are no socks or underwear for the kids. Husband tosses ice cream at the primitive mother beast and hides in his office to play Sudoku.

Week 4: Kids are banished from my presence they have become so annoying. Because they have taken apart or destroyed all their toys and games they have started taking apart the house. Fake wood trim has been torn off, a window is cracked, and there are 7 new stains on the living room carpet. I am experiencing a funny emotional disconnect to the whole situation. It feels like an out of body experience as I look around and think, "Man, what monsters live here?" Suddenly I look down at the unshaven legs peeking out from my bath robe and I realize, the monster is ME! Husband is unable to hide in his office because I have started moving all my hideous piles into that room and there is no room for him. Instead he goes to bed early.

****For the safety of the test subjects it is determined that the experiment must be moved into phase 2 and FAST!

Day one: I announce that it is time to do some cleaning. Kids disappear. I leave them be and use the time to clean my own filth.

Day two: A repeat of Day one but subject #2 actually picks up several objects before fading into the debris.

Day three: I bath all subjects, trim their claws/nails, cut hair on male subjects so as to be able to see their eyes, and force them all out into natural sunlight for 2 hours. Then I make them eat some fresh fruit and vegetables. This seems to calm them. We attempt to clean. Subject #1 goes into a rage, subject #2 is willing to participate in the new activity, subject #3 complains that his feet hurt and he itches, subject #4 is put down for a nap. We clean for 2 straight hours but little difference is seen. Children are grumpy. I am bathing and dressing myself again and I even make dinner. Husband says I look nice and prints off a new Sudoku.

Day four: Make children change into clean clothes and they feel the need to ask why. Cleaning continues and the same reactions are seen in respective subjects, however after 2 more hours of cleaning it is easy to see a difference being made and all subjects end up happy and excited to show their daddy what they've done. I start wearing make up, made lunch and dinner today. Husband is happy to see the changes but is wary of believing it to be a permanent change.

Day Five: Take children outside to clean up our white trash yard. We fill the garbage can with much stuff. Many lost gloves, spoons, cups, and shoes are found. I mow the lawn. Children suddenly show interest in playing together and spend an additional 2 hours outside playing soccer, tag, and digging holes under the deck. All receive baths and they all seem happy and helpful the rest of the evening. I go to the store and buy new plastic containers to increase our organizing efficiency and even take subjects #3 and 4 to the children's museum. Husband is extra helpful cleaning the kitchen with me after dinner and helping get kids into bed.

Day 6: Laundry is caught up and put away, dishes are done, I am no longer embarrassed to have people over. Today we intend to finish cleaning downstairs. I have bought nice plastic containers to help the kids sort their toys and some plastic drawers to try this idea with my laundry.

Conclusion: Contrary to what children say, it is obvious that they don't really want to be left alone, or to not work. While subjects seem to complain more in phase 2 of the experiment it is obvious that they are more joyful, constructive, calm, and play together better in this phase. They seem to prefer having clean open spaces in which to run and play physical games than they do being surrounded by electronic gadgets and toys and TV.

We will continue studying subject behavior in phase 2 for 1 more week. Then we will try phase 3 in which we increase the responsibilities and reduce the amount of stuff in subjects' environment.

Pictures are not being used as they were found to be too graphic and shocking for normal human viewing.

Eye-Hand Coordination

How I learned to load a dishwasher: