It all started last night when Child Number Three forced me to become a housewife. I never strive to becoming the model housekeeper, for there is far too much upkeep involved. I don’t want the house to always be glistening in the sunlight. I have gotten used to the floating dust storms that occur every time something is moved or even looked at. I would much rather sit back and watch a few shows and make a couple of crafts. Where is the fun in working my butt off to follow all the homemaking gurus in all their advice books in their attempt to turn Mess Queens into Domestic Goddesses. Where are all the guides to Becoming A Happy Mom with Loads of ME Time? Why must we burden ourselves to prove to our friends how perfect we are?
Because we aren’t.
Sometimes my house is clean, and sometimes it is hard to tell if it there is even a floor. Read the rest of this entry
I know I am on a DIY streak, but that is all I have time for nowadays. Several days ago, I wrote a post but never had the chance to type it. I can’t blog anything that takes intense thought processes because the kids have been taking me on a whirlwind of a crazy ride. I have Child Number Three jumping on me now, as I type, shouting some sort of gibberish and occasionally hitting the keys. A woman has got to be able to think to write something comprehensible. We aren’t just naturals, you know, of course.
And so, the only thing I was able to do (I am so thankful for this discovery) was find something for those little beady eyes to get glued to. Anything that sounds like a machine or moves by itself, will mesmerize those little guys. Boys will be boys. So I whipped out my Wal-Mart sewing machine and tried to find something to stitch up. I had a flat sheet from Wal-Mart, of course, which was about 3 dollars and change and I wanted to make a quick curtain for the guest room. It took so short and came out so nice, I had to share.
A flat sheet of any color or pattern
An extendable curtain rod from a home store.
An old table-cloth. (optional) Read the rest of this entry
Ever feel like you want to stand upon the rooftop and shout as loud as your voice can go? Whether it be about the fact that you love someone dearly and you want the whole world to know, or about how incredibly awesome you are and how you deserve to be heard, or any reason at all, many of us have been there. Well, even though I have felt the latter, sadly, the times have been numbered and can be counted on my own two hands. I spend more time being hard on myself , unreasonable judgmental, and highly unforgiving. Read the rest of this entry
You know, I am a huge fan of leaves. I love when they are on the trees and blowing in the wind and I love when they are turning all different shades of colors. But most of all, I like when they are dead. As morbid as that just came out, I mean it. I am one of those weird people who walk zigzagging on the street to make sure that each foot steps on a crunchy leaf. Yup. Just like when you were a kid and needed to step from line to line on the sidewalk.
Now although that sound is quite fabulous, the dead pine-cone takes the cake. If I had to be carried all the time until there was a pine-cone in sight, I would. Ahh. That smashing, crunching, crisp, cracking sound. It really takes me to a special place. I dream of a bed of dry leaves…
Then, running only slightly behind those, are my other two favorites. The sound when you glide your ice skate into a T-stop. That scraping-the-ice sound as you come to a complete halt. Truly a remarkable sound. Then, last but not least, one I try to create every day. The sizzling pop of freshly cut onions thrown into a skillet of hot butter. What can be better.
However, as exceptional as the sound may be, I was not prepared for it this morning. I was forced to change the linen in the childrens’ bedroom. By forced I mean that my four-year-old informed me that the linen needed to be changed. How many options did I have then. So I pulled out some sheets from the closet and I really must have not changed the linen in decades. I tried to slip the corners onto the mattress but I could not concentrate above the crunching. My sheets got the crunchies. The elastic was so far gone that it crackled and popped till it turned into a flat sheet.
So now my one skill that was giving me hope in the world was dented. Great. I don’t change the linen enough. What kind of mom leaves the linen deteriorating in the closet. Shame.
Now that sound, I did not like at all. My sheets are no longer fitted and they think that the winter has arrived and they must spread their wings. I must set them free. It’s what I must do to compensate for all the time I cooped them up on the shelf.
Another talent bites the dust.