(I know that title makes you expect this post to be scintillating and exciting! I promise you it won’t disappoint. How could it, when the subject is housework?)
I was pouring the remaining honey from a nearly-empty container into another, and it was going very, very slowly. I wondered whether the honey might flow more quickly if it were a warmer day. That would make a great metaphor. “As slow as honey in November.”
I’d like to get my kitchen arranged so that the foods we eat most are stored in the most accessible locations. So, at arm’s-reach there would be a shelf full of mac and cheese, canned chili, white bread, candy, and Doritos.
I once read an article about organizing kitchens that said you should get rid of any gadgets you hadn’t used in over a year. That makes sense if the previous year was a normal one, but not if you’ve spent the last year–or the last ten years–sick, pregnant, nursing, or all of the above. I’m still going to use those lollipop forms, the rosette iron, and my Kitchenaid mixer someday!
(Good news! I’m not currently sick, nursing, or pregnant. Bad news! I’m using the hiatus to clean out my fridge and pantry.)
The pregnancy/lactation/illness exception would apply to discarding clothing, but if it’s been close to ten years, the ruthless forward march of fashion will likely force you to get rid of old clothes, anyway.
Years ago, in a misleading stage of pre-parenthood life, I was meticulous and organized. But once you’re a parent of young kids, you have to cast off your self-concept of a person in control of your surroundings, and learn two essential skills: triage, and denial. You can’t ignore (for much longer than it takes to finish reading everyone’s status updates on Facebook) the baby with her hands in the butter, the baby with her hands in the toilet, the floor covered in thumbtacks and marbles and broken glass. But if you ever want to write scintillating blog posts (or even sleep a few hours at night) you learn to ignore everything else.
Unfortunately, once you learn to ignore a mess, it’s a hard skill to unlearn. One quick re-education tactic would be to invite a religious or political leader, or a member of the media, to your home. (I do not recommend this tactic.)
This concludes this scintillating post about housework. I’m sure it met your expectations!
This is the outfit we cobbled together for Colonial Day at Mabel’s school. (Sadly, they wouldn’t let her wear her Native American costume from Halloween). My sister Mary loaned us the shawl (thanks!), I basted pleats into the waist of an old skirt of mine, and Mabel figured out the rest. Mabel’s teacher also provided mob-caps when they got to school.
I get frustrated when a school asks we provide something pioneer-ish or colonial, and says we don’t have to go all-out, but assumes we’ll just have something around. On the other hand, my heart did soften after hearing Mabel describe how much fun she’d had today.