Welcome Home

Is there anything nicer than coming home to a clean, organized, lovely kitchen? Doesn't it just beg for you to sit down with a nice cup of tea, maybe browse the mail, perhaps start a light supper of pasta with fresh basil and mozzarella? Perhaps with a glass of a delightful pinot noir? Hmmmm. Welcome home, honey.

My point? I have no idea what that would feel like. I just happened to take a look at my kitchen cabinets and noticed peanut butter (Sean), blue food coloring (Erin), and dribbles of chocolate syrup (either one) on the doors. Don't ask me why. And for some reason, an ant colony has taken over my kitchen counter plant. I CAN NOT kill the plant. CAN NOT. It's been in my family for like 25 years and refuses to die no matter how not-green my family thumbs are. The cats have knocked over their food dishes and Mena has started this "thing" of dipping over the water bowl. I don't know. It's hot...maybe she's trying to bathe. I just don't know. I simply don't know how this shit happens.

I clean. I dust and wax and polish and shine and vacuum and organize and swish and swirl and throw crap out (usually when the moon is full, Pluto is in the House of Saturn and Jupiter's spot is a lovely shade of burgundy). BUT, even when NO ONE IS HOME, it gets totally wrecked. Yes, Mena digs dirty socks out of the laundry basket and carries them all over the house like they are her kittens. Sure, Hurricane Erin strikes. Sure, sometimes the laundry piles up, the recycling poureth over, I have ring around the tub and sage brush rolling down the hallway. AND no, I don't always get to the dinner dishes, but for heaven's sake...peanut butter, blue food coloring and chocolate syrup?

How long has it been there? What if it's been there for like YEARS and I never noticed it? OMG -- I'm NOT June Cleaver!

It's been a terrible truth I've struggled not to face. But there it is. Out in the open. I believe I'm a disorganized clutterbug who does not pay attention to anything related to housework. I had company over the weekend, and Erin and I cleaned up (sorta) after they left. When Sam came over, I was fairly proud that there was even a path thru the livingroom. I told him that we had cleaned up after the company left....that the livingroom had been the housing unit for the visiting kids. He said, and I quote, "This is clean??"

He should have seen it BEFORE I spent 2 hours digging out.

With this recent realization of my affliction and my poor attempts at problem solving, I have now spent just as much money on books about home organization as I have on books about dieting.

But I'm trying to kick the habit. (It has been noted that if I spent my time organizing and cleaning as opposed to reading books about organizing and cleaning, that I'd not be in the mess I'm currently in....). I'm going to LOVE my mess. I'm going to embrace the Slob Factor that has been passed down from me to my children.

And I'm gonna start making those cats earn their keep by doing at least a couple loads of laundry a week.

Welcome Home

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