The organizing bug has bitten me.
Organizing isn't like weight loss. You get to see the results and the benefits immediately, and not in a month. Perhaps that's why I'm up to my armpits in linen closet fodder and haven't been to the gym in two weeks. My spring garage sale pile is huge and growing daily. I'm really starting to realize now all of the demons that I need to shake off. I love my parents dearly, but I'm really starting to realize how I was raised to be a pack rat. I think that this was compounded when I moved out of my parents' house. Richie and I were dirt poor. Let me get you into our first year that was 04-05. I remember Richie needing to buy peroxide (can't remember why) and we couldn't afford it. Richie's mom said, "But that's ridiculous, it's not even a dollar a bottle". Exactly, we can't afford it. When you're poor you hang onto everything. You convince yourself that you could somehow re purpose it and make it great. Like you're freaking MacGyver or something. So while I sift through piles I've been asking myself some questions. Here they are:
-Have I used this in the last year? If it's not something that is meant to be used frequently, then can I afford to repurchase it in the rare event that I would need it again?
-Do I love this? Sometimes I get swept up in the fact that it was a gift. I actually donated a stuffed rabbit that my grandmother made for me. I remembered that I didn't exactly like it when she gave it to me. I love her, but I can honor her memory in a different way. Not to mention, I have a handful of other handmade things she gave me that I LOVE. Those things need to be showcased, and not shoved in a box where no one can see them, including me.
-Do I have something similar to this that I like more? I was going through those above the fridge cabinets in my kitchen this last week, "the cabinets of plenty". You know those cupboards. The cupboards where you store all the crap that you don't really use, but can't get rid of. I found four decorative creamers. I mean really, lets count up how many times I've had a guest over and said, "Would you care for a spot of tea lovey? Ok, well which creamer would you prefer?". Ridiculous. I kept one, because it actually went with my tea pot that I do use. You never know, the Queen may swing by one day and demand that the creamer be brought to the table.
-How does this item make me feel? Most of the time my answer to this is, "Well self, like crap quite frankly. It clutters up my closet/counter/life, and then I get stressed out and I treat people like crap, and I over eat. Once and a while I find something where the answer is, "Like a million bucks!". That item, piece of clothing, etc. goes front and center.
I've made a lot of progress in the last week. But, along the way I've annoyed my family. Richie might just level me if I ask him one more time, "How often do you really use this? Does it have a specific home? No? Well then find one". Today I actually caught myself asking the kids, "Don't you want to clean up your rooms and reorganize? It will be so great to be able to find all your stuff when you want it!" Picture me looking exuberant and my kids wondering what happened to their mother.
Everyone else may hate me, but I'm pretty happy.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Mad at Myself
Lately I've been thinking a lot about what I want to change about myself. One of the things that tops the list, just under making the relationships in my life stronger, including my relationship with God, is to be a more organized person.
I've started putting things into action this week. I started meal planning. We're on week one. Since we have the actual planning and shopping behind us, Richie and I sat down together tonight to plug the planned meals into each night of the week. I took a pad (specifically made for meal planning) out of the plastic, and Richie laughed at me. I said, "What? I thought it was a cute idea, I bought them a couple years ago". For real, I bought these almost two years ago. He told me, "No, that's great. It's very organized. I can't believe you're being so organized." That pretty much sums it up. I'm not organized...at all. I am a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants sort of girl. My kids never had schedules, we ate when we were hungry and slept when we were tired. Up until this last year they never had a bedtime. One of the reasons I loved breastfeeding was because I didn't need a schedule. Just whip it out wherever, whenever. I'm sure that this has had a positive impact in a way. I know that my kids can adjust. They learned to fall asleep anywhere, and our lives were never a slave to nap times or routines.
But there is another really ugly side to my laid back personality. I absolutely suck at time management, managing tasks, or being organized at all. This is strange, because I love to organize. I would sleep in a tent for a week in anticipation of The Container Store opening its doors if they ever open one in my state.
Hoarding runs in my family. I don't just mean people in my family have a tendency to be a pack rat, I mean hoarders. Just like the TV show. I don't talk about it much, if at all, with people who aren't family because it's embarrassing, and I would never mean to insult any of my family members' "weaknesses". I live in absolute fear of becoming that way. It tends to worsen with age, and it's usually with the loss of a parent that I've known family members to go full tilt.
So this brings me to tonight. After the meal planning was done, and the kids were ready for bed, I decided that I would make myself organize at least one small area of my house. Richie and I have the upstairs to ourselves and there is a door at the foot of the staircase. I have a horrible habit of stashing things there. Just throwing clothes there, or pictures, or books, or jewelry. Anything that needs to be taken upstairs. Then I shut the door. And I'm sure you're thinking a small pile, but no, it's more like you better be good at lunges, because you're clearing the landing and the first two stairs. This is so embarrassing to admit, but I want to be accountable. Even if I'm just admitting a very bad habit to a subscription list of five people, I'm doing it just the same.
I'm instituting a basket system, and a "get off your lazy butt, Molly", system asap. But before either of these go into effect, things needed to be cleaned up. Because things just get tossed there, whatever it is gets trampled. So I got it cleaned up and in the process I found a lot of things ruined, or close to it. Two photos that are dear to my heart...crumpled. A small shelf I had been meaning to hang up upstairs...broken, but repairable. A bracelet that belonged to Richie's aunt that passed away in October...broken. Actually, snapped in half. The list is quite long, and I'm going to spare my ego. Anyways, I cried. It wasn't even over the stuff...ok maybe the photos. Mostly, it was over me. I was disgusted. Thankfully, my whole home isn't like this. A few areas here and there, and the basement as a whole, but still. Shame on me.
Have I mentioned that the thought of an emergency worker coming into my home and seeing one of these messes makes me almost as anxious as the thought of having a reason to call 911?
But no more, I'm done. The next time that someone comes to my home and wants a tour, they're going to see every inch. I'm going to be ready.
I've started putting things into action this week. I started meal planning. We're on week one. Since we have the actual planning and shopping behind us, Richie and I sat down together tonight to plug the planned meals into each night of the week. I took a pad (specifically made for meal planning) out of the plastic, and Richie laughed at me. I said, "What? I thought it was a cute idea, I bought them a couple years ago". For real, I bought these almost two years ago. He told me, "No, that's great. It's very organized. I can't believe you're being so organized." That pretty much sums it up. I'm not organized...at all. I am a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants sort of girl. My kids never had schedules, we ate when we were hungry and slept when we were tired. Up until this last year they never had a bedtime. One of the reasons I loved breastfeeding was because I didn't need a schedule. Just whip it out wherever, whenever. I'm sure that this has had a positive impact in a way. I know that my kids can adjust. They learned to fall asleep anywhere, and our lives were never a slave to nap times or routines.
But there is another really ugly side to my laid back personality. I absolutely suck at time management, managing tasks, or being organized at all. This is strange, because I love to organize. I would sleep in a tent for a week in anticipation of The Container Store opening its doors if they ever open one in my state.
Hoarding runs in my family. I don't just mean people in my family have a tendency to be a pack rat, I mean hoarders. Just like the TV show. I don't talk about it much, if at all, with people who aren't family because it's embarrassing, and I would never mean to insult any of my family members' "weaknesses". I live in absolute fear of becoming that way. It tends to worsen with age, and it's usually with the loss of a parent that I've known family members to go full tilt.
So this brings me to tonight. After the meal planning was done, and the kids were ready for bed, I decided that I would make myself organize at least one small area of my house. Richie and I have the upstairs to ourselves and there is a door at the foot of the staircase. I have a horrible habit of stashing things there. Just throwing clothes there, or pictures, or books, or jewelry. Anything that needs to be taken upstairs. Then I shut the door. And I'm sure you're thinking a small pile, but no, it's more like you better be good at lunges, because you're clearing the landing and the first two stairs. This is so embarrassing to admit, but I want to be accountable. Even if I'm just admitting a very bad habit to a subscription list of five people, I'm doing it just the same.
I'm instituting a basket system, and a "get off your lazy butt, Molly", system asap. But before either of these go into effect, things needed to be cleaned up. Because things just get tossed there, whatever it is gets trampled. So I got it cleaned up and in the process I found a lot of things ruined, or close to it. Two photos that are dear to my heart...crumpled. A small shelf I had been meaning to hang up upstairs...broken, but repairable. A bracelet that belonged to Richie's aunt that passed away in October...broken. Actually, snapped in half. The list is quite long, and I'm going to spare my ego. Anyways, I cried. It wasn't even over the stuff...ok maybe the photos. Mostly, it was over me. I was disgusted. Thankfully, my whole home isn't like this. A few areas here and there, and the basement as a whole, but still. Shame on me.
Have I mentioned that the thought of an emergency worker coming into my home and seeing one of these messes makes me almost as anxious as the thought of having a reason to call 911?
But no more, I'm done. The next time that someone comes to my home and wants a tour, they're going to see every inch. I'm going to be ready.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
I'm baaaaccckkk...
It's almost been a year since I wrote anything here. A lot has changed, thankfully. Reading over my old posts I realized how difficult things were for me. I had completely lost my joy.
But things are changing. I'm not there yet, but I have a new attitude and I'm putting what I've learned into action. I would say that's more than half the battle. This isn't to say that I was depressed, or miserable in my life. It was worse, I was stuck.
Richie lost his job, and we thought our world was ending. Come to find out it was a blessing. His department was completely rearranged when he left, and the pay scale was altered, and we felt badly for his work partners left behind. Finances then changed for us with the new job for the better. We now have two cars. They're old, but they're cars and they get us not only where we need to go, but want to go. The kids and I can have a life that extends past our block.
But the biggest change of all was spiritual. We found a church a year and a half ago, and Richie was baptised July 25 of 2010. This isn't just a church. It is THEE CHURCH. The church I was praying for. The church I had myself convinced didn't exist. I was so very jaded, and sick of being a nomad every Sunday, and never liking where we ended up. The people are amazing. I can tell you that I knew they were special that second I met them. The only other time that I had that feeling, and was correct, was when I met Richie. A feeling that makes you realize that something bigger is at work. It was so very right. In a short period of time they became family. It finally felt like there was a possibility for worship outside of our home. It saved us. It saved us from my prior attitude that church wasn't neccessary. In my past opinions, church was political and the people were hypocrits. Well sadly, I've been to a lot of churches that were, and so were the people. But then I read my Bible, and realized that as a self proclaimed Christian, this attitude was all wrong. Because things got tough, and inconvenient, I started making Christ and his gospel what I wanted it to be, not what it was. I did a simple internet search on a whim and found our current church listed. We showed up on a Wednesday night, and we instantly knew that God had led us to the door step. It's so funny to me now that we were driving an hour and a half to our old place of worship when our "new church" was 5 miles down the road.
So anyways, I have a lot of stuff bouncing around in my head. Way too much for one post. I'm going to start doing things differently. Not just the deep spiritual things, but mundane things. I've decided to slowly reinvent myself. I want to be a better Christian, wife, mother, housekeeper, I want my own business...the list goes on. A lot of growth has been going on while I wasn't here blogging. This blog will be changing, too. So hopefully you haven't given up on me and you'll be sticking around.
But things are changing. I'm not there yet, but I have a new attitude and I'm putting what I've learned into action. I would say that's more than half the battle. This isn't to say that I was depressed, or miserable in my life. It was worse, I was stuck.
Richie lost his job, and we thought our world was ending. Come to find out it was a blessing. His department was completely rearranged when he left, and the pay scale was altered, and we felt badly for his work partners left behind. Finances then changed for us with the new job for the better. We now have two cars. They're old, but they're cars and they get us not only where we need to go, but want to go. The kids and I can have a life that extends past our block.
But the biggest change of all was spiritual. We found a church a year and a half ago, and Richie was baptised July 25 of 2010. This isn't just a church. It is THEE CHURCH. The church I was praying for. The church I had myself convinced didn't exist. I was so very jaded, and sick of being a nomad every Sunday, and never liking where we ended up. The people are amazing. I can tell you that I knew they were special that second I met them. The only other time that I had that feeling, and was correct, was when I met Richie. A feeling that makes you realize that something bigger is at work. It was so very right. In a short period of time they became family. It finally felt like there was a possibility for worship outside of our home. It saved us. It saved us from my prior attitude that church wasn't neccessary. In my past opinions, church was political and the people were hypocrits. Well sadly, I've been to a lot of churches that were, and so were the people. But then I read my Bible, and realized that as a self proclaimed Christian, this attitude was all wrong. Because things got tough, and inconvenient, I started making Christ and his gospel what I wanted it to be, not what it was. I did a simple internet search on a whim and found our current church listed. We showed up on a Wednesday night, and we instantly knew that God had led us to the door step. It's so funny to me now that we were driving an hour and a half to our old place of worship when our "new church" was 5 miles down the road.
So anyways, I have a lot of stuff bouncing around in my head. Way too much for one post. I'm going to start doing things differently. Not just the deep spiritual things, but mundane things. I've decided to slowly reinvent myself. I want to be a better Christian, wife, mother, housekeeper, I want my own business...the list goes on. A lot of growth has been going on while I wasn't here blogging. This blog will be changing, too. So hopefully you haven't given up on me and you'll be sticking around.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Trying not to sound like a spoiled brat...
I'm having a hard time adjusting to Richie's new job. We have one car. He got a company car at his last job four days out of the week. I planned my life around those four days. I did my grocery shopping, I took the kids swimming, I got a majority of my workouts in at the gym. The other three days were spent hunkering down, cleaning, hanging out with the kids at home. And most of the time Richie was home on some of those days. Now there is no company car.
I've done this before. So I thought it wouldn't be a big deal. Well, I was wrong. I'm getting bitter. I'm grateful, I really am. The worst thing that happened in all this is that we had to drain our vacation fund. It's not the first time & it won't be the last. No big deal. If he has a decent spring at work we'll still have a shot at making the UP at the end of the summer. But I'm still on the verge of losing my mind. I'm here all day. Then Richie comes home and crashes. The latest I've seen him with his eyes open this last week has been 8. That's an hour before the kids go to bed. That's right when I'm cleaning up dinner, bathing the kids, reading them books, and getting them into bed. I'm not mad at Richie, or trying to imply that he isn't pulling his weight. He works hard. He demolishes and carries, and lifts. He does good old traditional blue collar work 10+ hours a day.
Maybe it doesn't help that both the kids are sick, and I'm not feeling too great either. I'm getting up twice a night to do breathing treatments, give medicine, give comfort. Then I wake up to two miserably irritable children who fight over everything, cry over things they would usually brush off, but feel well enough to bounce off the walls like rubber during the day. Meanwhile I want to cry. There is no where to go. If Richie works overtime, most of the places I need (notice need, not want) to go are closed. The other day I had to force feed Tristan infant Tylenol and then watch him gag because we were out of Meltaways. But I refused to let him crumple up at the end of the hallway and sob because he felt so crappy. Buying a car is not going to happen, affording the insurance would be a stretch. So for now I'll feel like I'm 16 again. I'll call on my mom and my best friend when it's absolutely necessary, so that they don't get sick of me.
So here's hoping I get into a groove, and I get used to it. There I feel better. I ranted.
I've done this before. So I thought it wouldn't be a big deal. Well, I was wrong. I'm getting bitter. I'm grateful, I really am. The worst thing that happened in all this is that we had to drain our vacation fund. It's not the first time & it won't be the last. No big deal. If he has a decent spring at work we'll still have a shot at making the UP at the end of the summer. But I'm still on the verge of losing my mind. I'm here all day. Then Richie comes home and crashes. The latest I've seen him with his eyes open this last week has been 8. That's an hour before the kids go to bed. That's right when I'm cleaning up dinner, bathing the kids, reading them books, and getting them into bed. I'm not mad at Richie, or trying to imply that he isn't pulling his weight. He works hard. He demolishes and carries, and lifts. He does good old traditional blue collar work 10+ hours a day.
Maybe it doesn't help that both the kids are sick, and I'm not feeling too great either. I'm getting up twice a night to do breathing treatments, give medicine, give comfort. Then I wake up to two miserably irritable children who fight over everything, cry over things they would usually brush off, but feel well enough to bounce off the walls like rubber during the day. Meanwhile I want to cry. There is no where to go. If Richie works overtime, most of the places I need (notice need, not want) to go are closed. The other day I had to force feed Tristan infant Tylenol and then watch him gag because we were out of Meltaways. But I refused to let him crumple up at the end of the hallway and sob because he felt so crappy. Buying a car is not going to happen, affording the insurance would be a stretch. So for now I'll feel like I'm 16 again. I'll call on my mom and my best friend when it's absolutely necessary, so that they don't get sick of me.
So here's hoping I get into a groove, and I get used to it. There I feel better. I ranted.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I used to paint on a daily basis. I used to leave with a camera and do my thing. Up until the middle of this summer I would do some embroidery or knit. But lately, I'm worthless in the creativity department. It's really frustrating.
For a very long time I was working out six days a week. I was beginning to see a post childbirth form that I was comfortable with. I had a ton of energy.
Then something happened...and I'm not sure what.
I need to get back to all of that. I need to put myself back near the top of my priority list. As a mother it is way too easy to bump yourself to the very last thing on the list.
For a very long time I was working out six days a week. I was beginning to see a post childbirth form that I was comfortable with. I had a ton of energy.
Then something happened...and I'm not sure what.
I need to get back to all of that. I need to put myself back near the top of my priority list. As a mother it is way too easy to bump yourself to the very last thing on the list.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Bleh...
I am feeling restless lately. I feel as though I have completely worn out the possibilities of summer. Fall and winter are beginning to sound better all the time, any type of change would be nice. Back in February, when we all had the flu and we were bored out of our minds, I would have killed for this time of year.
For me, being a stay at home mom is a challenge for two reasons. First of all, I find it very easy to get stuck in a rut. I am not a very social person. It's very hard for me to get out of my comfort zone of my family and my best friend and branch out. So I tend to beat certain things to death. Things like the library, the beach, the park, Play-doh and the swing set. And walking. Oh my goodness, the walking. I think that I have walked all of Shelby Township with the kids. The biggest decision for us lately has been do we walk in the direction of the house with the big fake cow in their flowerbed or in the direction of the hillbillies with six beagles in their backyard. I really don't live in Podunk, but the weirdos yards of our neighborhood seem to be the most appealing to the kids.
The second reason that being a SAHM is difficult for me at time is that I'm a loner. I love being completely and totally alone. Once the kids are in bed the possibilities for me are endless. I could become a total hermit and wouldn't mind one bit. I could read, do pilates and yoga, paint, and putts around until kingdom come. It makes me feel guilty that I am really bored when they are up most of the time. I love my kids more than life, and I love being a stay at home mom, but I feel like I'm repeating yesterday a lot of the time. I suppose it's increasingly hard because I am a married single mother most of the time. I'm not complaining, I am unfailingly thankful that Richie works like a dog for us. I'm even more thankful that he is on the same page as me when it comes to feeling that me being at home with the kids is the only option for us. It would be hard for me to hear that my husband didn't feel as though I was doing enough if I wasn't "working".
So I'm trying to figure out something that will make me feel more content. I'm thinking about going back to school for the winter semester, but I go back and forth. My kids are still little and they need to be where the majority of my attention is focused, going back to school full time would make that difficult. I have to see if financial aid at OU would allow a part time schedule. For now I'm considering seeing if my mom would be OK with watching the kids for a day every week. For me getting a hot tea and browsing through the library or the bookstore without two bored kids hanging on my leg is all I need. I'm a very simple person, and it isn't hard to make me happy. It's just very hard for me to never have a break. I suppose Richie's schedule would be hard on any wife, but I need some time for myself that isn't after 9pm when all of my abilities and energy has been zapped. What do all of you do to stay sane, and feel like you are a human being and not just a mom?
For me, being a stay at home mom is a challenge for two reasons. First of all, I find it very easy to get stuck in a rut. I am not a very social person. It's very hard for me to get out of my comfort zone of my family and my best friend and branch out. So I tend to beat certain things to death. Things like the library, the beach, the park, Play-doh and the swing set. And walking. Oh my goodness, the walking. I think that I have walked all of Shelby Township with the kids. The biggest decision for us lately has been do we walk in the direction of the house with the big fake cow in their flowerbed or in the direction of the hillbillies with six beagles in their backyard. I really don't live in Podunk, but the weirdos yards of our neighborhood seem to be the most appealing to the kids.
The second reason that being a SAHM is difficult for me at time is that I'm a loner. I love being completely and totally alone. Once the kids are in bed the possibilities for me are endless. I could become a total hermit and wouldn't mind one bit. I could read, do pilates and yoga, paint, and putts around until kingdom come. It makes me feel guilty that I am really bored when they are up most of the time. I love my kids more than life, and I love being a stay at home mom, but I feel like I'm repeating yesterday a lot of the time. I suppose it's increasingly hard because I am a married single mother most of the time. I'm not complaining, I am unfailingly thankful that Richie works like a dog for us. I'm even more thankful that he is on the same page as me when it comes to feeling that me being at home with the kids is the only option for us. It would be hard for me to hear that my husband didn't feel as though I was doing enough if I wasn't "working".
So I'm trying to figure out something that will make me feel more content. I'm thinking about going back to school for the winter semester, but I go back and forth. My kids are still little and they need to be where the majority of my attention is focused, going back to school full time would make that difficult. I have to see if financial aid at OU would allow a part time schedule. For now I'm considering seeing if my mom would be OK with watching the kids for a day every week. For me getting a hot tea and browsing through the library or the bookstore without two bored kids hanging on my leg is all I need. I'm a very simple person, and it isn't hard to make me happy. It's just very hard for me to never have a break. I suppose Richie's schedule would be hard on any wife, but I need some time for myself that isn't after 9pm when all of my abilities and energy has been zapped. What do all of you do to stay sane, and feel like you are a human being and not just a mom?
Sunday, May 31, 2009
My Fortune
When Richie and I were first married I got a fortune, in a fortune cookie, that I have kept in my wallet next to our family picture to this day. It reads, "If you can't be happy with what you've got, how can you be happy with more?" That simple little fortune has gotten me through a lot of really rough times. Like when I would go to the grocery store when Tristan was a baby to get groceries and say a little prayer that my debit card wouldn't get declined, and we would get through until pay day. I would look at our family picture with that sweet little boy and read that quote, and I would remember that I had all I needed, and we were doing all that we could.
Those days have slowly passed, but I think that it is a very valid statement still, that stands the test of time. It isn't the "stuff" that should make us happy, but the time spent with family and friends. The times that we are totally in tune and conscious in conversation with loved ones. I feel that the US as a whole has found itself in this financial situation because people have lived so far outside of their means for so long. People have tried to fill themselves up with things that can't possibly do that. People have spent way too much time trying to impress people that they don't even know. I hope that the silver lining in this economic crisis will be that people have learned to be happy with what they NEED. And have learned to know the difference.
Those days have slowly passed, but I think that it is a very valid statement still, that stands the test of time. It isn't the "stuff" that should make us happy, but the time spent with family and friends. The times that we are totally in tune and conscious in conversation with loved ones. I feel that the US as a whole has found itself in this financial situation because people have lived so far outside of their means for so long. People have tried to fill themselves up with things that can't possibly do that. People have spent way too much time trying to impress people that they don't even know. I hope that the silver lining in this economic crisis will be that people have learned to be happy with what they NEED. And have learned to know the difference.
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