On Sunday, I woke and started cleaning, washed all the linens, prepared for the week, and played with my daughter. I made a huge dent in Mt. DirtyClothes and even hung my curtains in my bedroom.
On Monday, I got up and started my morning routine. I had left my clothes on the ironing board and my hubby had ironed them. I loaded up the car, woke up the kid, dressed and started my 45 minute commute sans the DVD player that was left in my hubby’s car.
My phone rings. It was hubby checking in making sure I was up and moving on Monday. As we are getting off the phone he adds, “By the way, YOUR WELCOME.”
I immediately spit back “For what?” He answers “I iiiirrrroooonnnneeeddd your clothes this morning”.
Livid does not begin to describe my initial emotional reaction. What about all my Thanks You’s? What about thanking me for making sure there is food in the fridge every night, or a thanks for clean clothes, making the bed every morning, picking up Addie so he can go and play volleyball? What about my thank you for loading and unloading the dishwasher, ironing his uniforms, and making sure we stay stocked with the necessities of life like toilet paper, diapers, and fudgesicles? I let my anger grow and grow. I was planning on a full domestic strike. (Let the bathroom funk build up until it was completely unsanitary, pile the dishes in the sink, let Mt. DirtyClothes build up until you could no longer access the laundry room.)
Then something happened. I thought how nice it would be if someone did tell me they appreciated all the small stuff I do everyday. Not only at home, but at work, and in play activities. Yet, I do not always thank people. Do I think I am entitled to certain things? I should thank people. I was mad at my husband because he wanted recognition….that is all I wanted too, but instead of asking for it I was letting it breed hostility and anger inside of me. So I decided to start thanking people. Honestly thanking them. I will thank me husband for all the small things he does and hopefully it will be contagious. If not, I will probably be one of those women who “accidentally” runs over her husband four or five times.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Thursday, May 3, 2007
If At Fist You Do Not Suceed, Try and Try Again....
I have tried everything to get my life in working order. I tried to replicate Martha Stewart, then I dabbled in the philosophies of the Flylady, and presently I keep inviting myself over to my neighbors house so I can see how she manages to keep her home so pristine. Nothing works!
Martha Stewart is perfection (I am not referring to her as a human just to her home making skills). Her home is straight out of Pottery Barn, the food she serves is delectable, professional and delicious her mannerisms fit to entertain the Queen (I am assuming all this for I have never met her personally, seen her house nor eaten her food but I read her magazines and this is how I imagine it). I tried to mimic her perfection. My home did look like Pottery Barn....Post-Katrina; my food was burnt and often lacked taste for I could not find/afford all the spices she uses; and I just can not make small talk with people I have no interest in. So I decided that she was not my role-model mommy and I moved on.....
The Flylady was my next stop. Flylady says NO! to prefect ion and after torturing myself with the Martha Mayhem perfection was not on my top ten list. The Flylady taught me routine. Of course, with the obsessive compulsive disorder I inherited from stalking Martha, the routines became a little.....okay a HUGE burden. Everything had to be planned. If something did not go according to plan there was hell to pay. I thank God my daughter is too young to remember this dark period of my life but by husband still shutters every time he hears an egg timer. Finally, he ended my romance with routines by burning my Control Binder.
So, that was two-role models down and I was to the point where I convinced myself that every home in America was really in total disarray. Until I met me neighbor. Her house is spotless (eat off the floor clean) perfectly decorated, she works, she mothers, she even entertains...other adults. Her children are well behaved, her husband is charming and her floors contain not even one cheerio. I HAD to find out how she did it. So I became friends with her...to get close and find out her secret. My first thought was Crystal Meth (I saw a special on dateline that it is very common for suburban mothers to take Meth so they can get through the day). I ruled that out... she has perfect teeth. So then I decided that it must be Aderal. Like on Desperate Housewives. I checked her medicine cabinet.....accidentally, and could find no such substance...plus I guess her 18 month old is a little young for ADHD. She must have sold her soul to the devil then. This I can not refute with hard evidence but I just do not think this is the answer.
Finally, I asked her how she did it. She said she just does a little bit everyday. She tries to pick up after herself and she incorporates little time-saving cleaning tips into her daily routines. So that is what I am going to do to. I am going to get rid of the idea that perfection exists. I am going to through out the stringent routines and rely on what has gotten me this far.....luck!
Martha Stewart is perfection (I am not referring to her as a human just to her home making skills). Her home is straight out of Pottery Barn, the food she serves is delectable, professional and delicious her mannerisms fit to entertain the Queen (I am assuming all this for I have never met her personally, seen her house nor eaten her food but I read her magazines and this is how I imagine it). I tried to mimic her perfection. My home did look like Pottery Barn....Post-Katrina; my food was burnt and often lacked taste for I could not find/afford all the spices she uses; and I just can not make small talk with people I have no interest in. So I decided that she was not my role-model mommy and I moved on.....
The Flylady was my next stop. Flylady says NO! to prefect ion and after torturing myself with the Martha Mayhem perfection was not on my top ten list. The Flylady taught me routine. Of course, with the obsessive compulsive disorder I inherited from stalking Martha, the routines became a little.....okay a HUGE burden. Everything had to be planned. If something did not go according to plan there was hell to pay. I thank God my daughter is too young to remember this dark period of my life but by husband still shutters every time he hears an egg timer. Finally, he ended my romance with routines by burning my Control Binder.
So, that was two-role models down and I was to the point where I convinced myself that every home in America was really in total disarray. Until I met me neighbor. Her house is spotless (eat off the floor clean) perfectly decorated, she works, she mothers, she even entertains...other adults. Her children are well behaved, her husband is charming and her floors contain not even one cheerio. I HAD to find out how she did it. So I became friends with her...to get close and find out her secret. My first thought was Crystal Meth (I saw a special on dateline that it is very common for suburban mothers to take Meth so they can get through the day). I ruled that out... she has perfect teeth. So then I decided that it must be Aderal. Like on Desperate Housewives. I checked her medicine cabinet.....accidentally, and could find no such substance...plus I guess her 18 month old is a little young for ADHD. She must have sold her soul to the devil then. This I can not refute with hard evidence but I just do not think this is the answer.
Finally, I asked her how she did it. She said she just does a little bit everyday. She tries to pick up after herself and she incorporates little time-saving cleaning tips into her daily routines. So that is what I am going to do to. I am going to get rid of the idea that perfection exists. I am going to through out the stringent routines and rely on what has gotten me this far.....luck!
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Make a wish....
Since today I am a quarter of a century old….I would have 25 candles on my cake. This means I have 25 wishes, which I listed below in no particular order (Please abstain from any comments on my wishes being selfish or self-serving….It is my birthday and I will wish what I want too!). 
- World Peace (See I am not totally self centered)
- For perfect, shampoo commercial hair
- For the hair on my legs to cease and assist (aka fall out and never return)
- A deodorant that really works ALL day and really DOES NOT leave white streaks all over my clothing.
- Comfortable, fashionable AND affordable shoes
- A dryer that dries and then folds and/or hangs clothes.
- A cure for cancer, AIDS, and stretch marks (okay, okay, I was just making sure you were paying attention. A cure for cancer and AIDS.)
- Men could get pregnant, have babies, and breast feed. Then I could say, “Your vacation, oh, I mean your maternity leave” and they would know what true homicidal rage feels like.
- A house that self cleans. You know, kind of like a self cleaning oven, but for the whole house.
- A mute button for people (this includes children and infants).
- The ability to fly
- For women to not be afraid of their bodies, regardless of its size, we are all beautiful!
- For my children to lead happy and prosperous lives.
- For my boobs to return to their pre-pregnancy position instead of continuing their descent to my knees.
- Calorie free, fat free, good for you, Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Ice Cream
- A driver, there is so much I could do on my commute if I did not have to worry about driving.
- A dishwasher that would load itself, wash the dishes and unload itself.
- A Starbucks in my kitchen, or at the very least a daily delivery service
- Stiffer legal penalties (maybe involving unconstitutional torture) for sexual abuse against children.
- An annual, national conference for Maya’s Mom, in which an Airline decides to donate tickets (it being such a worthy cause), a hotel decides to jump on a band wagon and dole out a free stay to all attendees, and to top it off spa’s compete to offer their free services. Now if you could only find a reliable babysitter!
- To save enough money so my kids do not have to take out student loans for college.
- That any parent who has ever lost a child has at least one moment of pure joy today.
- For flawless skin, no more creams, peels, or ointments. Just naturally perfect skin.
- Mandatory PAID maternity leave for a minimum of 9 months to a maximum of 18 months for all mothers and up to 6 months PAID paternity leave for Daddies!!!!!!
- That I never forget how lucky I am, to have a great husband whom I love and respect, to have a beautiful and intelligent daughter and a baby on the way. To always remain humble, and keep my sense of humor. And to live everyday like it may be my last!
Please do not tell anyone or they will not come true.
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