I am sitting here as calmly as possible…was looking forward to writing my first book review since being in school and then it happened.
My husband’s cleaning….it can only be compared to what happened in the old Looney Tunes cartoon when the Tasmanian Devil entered a room. It started small enough…clothes. I was sorting clothes as they got put on the top of the dresser of kids clothes.
Then it spread. Now there are mountains of clothes, mountains of shoes, and worse, in the next room mountains of toys, paints (!!), and anything else that got packed with kid stuff when we moved a few months ago.
For me, this was/is terrifying. I say “was” because I’m not bawling anymore, nor am I banging my head on the doorframe (ouch). It really is a current feeling though. It is terrifying.
See, I am still getting a grip on our new place. I still have for example, some clothes in my suitcase. Constant distractions of kids, dishes, and the need to find food to consume have kept me from being able to focus on such a task. I have BEGGED for alone time MANY times so I could get such things done but no, it has not happened. Not the way I need it, which is scheduled and planned for so that I can properly allocate my time to tasks based on priority rather than 100% spending time putting out the fire of the moment that always seems to be there along with a few others.
I’m still having trouble finding clothes that fit. Yes this is partially due to having had my baby and the fluctuations in weight that follow.
My husband recently has devised this really cool “organization system” that has been helping him and a lot of people too. When it started, there were talks of setting me up with it on video, logic being that since I don’t really get it (haven’t read any of the related books) it would be a good piece to show people and get them started. That never happened though. Ironic considering I was at some point asking if we could “PLEASE” do it so that I could get more organized.
He told me to write down all of what I need to do, tasks to organize if you will…to which I again BEGGED for some alone time that I could designate to doing this task.
Pluto. That’s what that astrological chart told us, that he was my pluto. I thought it was cute and funny at the time but now, not so much. I have not managed to carve out the time needed for listing out tasks (because fires are always emerging to be extinguished) and rather than give me that time? HOURS of work piled on top of what else needs to happen as fast as a bolt of lightening. Not just that but the addition of countless items impossible to take a quick inventory of that need Hazel to be kept away from for her safety, limiting the very limited space she has access to even more, making staying home hardly an option at all…hindered by the price of gas and the lack of money to replenish what’s been used.
Monday. Tomorrow is Monday too, meaning if his project of organizing this mountain of stuff isn’t done, I’ll be tasked with keeping Hazel safe in the midst of madness.
I think something like this has happened before but somehow I was given warning, and I think I was asked to take the girls out, or maybe he did it when we already had some plans and took advantage of us not being around to do this. Either way it was not as traumatic.
Hopefully I’ll be able to laugh about this soon, and have a Nanny/Mothers Helper/Personal Assistant employed to give me predictable moments of sanity at least a couple of hours/times a week.
Until then, I will fantasize about the beautiful results sure to result from this madness…