Household Cleaning and Organizing Done Right

People ask me all the time,

“L, what are your best house cleaning tips?”

Just kidding. No one asks me that. Ever. But I have the best kept house cleaning/organizing secrets ever. I’m going to share them with you today!

First, ask yourself, “Who makes the most messes around here? Husband or kids?” There are very different guidelines for each.

If you answered “kids”:

This one is more difficult than dealing with a hoarding, messy husband, but there are more options.

*You can try chore charts to teach responsibility. Have your kids put each toy or activity away before they are allowed to get out something else, clear their own plates, make their own beds..shit like that.

*Allowances work wonders. Reward the good behavior.

*Confine them to one small area of the house, preferably near a bathroom. Less area to clean & you have the rest of the house to yourself.

*Last, if all other options fail, check out your state’s Safe Haven Law. I think there are usually age limits, but I’m pretty sure those are just a suggestion. You will need to first convince your children that your full name is Mommy McMommerson. Tell them you are going to visit the firetrucks! It will be fun!

If you answered “husband”:

This one is so easy! I like to call it The D.I.V.O.R.C.E Method.

*D is for, well, Divorce.
*I is for dIvorce.
*V is for diVorce.
*O is for divOrce.
*R is for divoRce.
*C is for divorCe.
*E is for divorcE.

I don’t know why this isn’t more widely known as an effective method. It makes such a HUGE difference. You know that saying, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks”? Likewise, you can’t teach an old bastard to stop being a fucking pig.

I was an amazing housewife, truth be told. I clean a little, cook a little, and copulate a lot. I will not, however, be your mama. Put your dirty laundry in the laundry basket. Put your dirty dishes in the sink. Remember that thing you empty once a week, only because I killed you twice with my death glare when it overflowed? It’s called a trashcan. Put your damn trash in it.

Booooooom! Clean house.

*Disclaimer: Calm your tits. I do not actually advocate dropping your kids off at the fire station unless it’s necessary for their safety. The rest of this post is spot on. Trust me.

IT’S FOR THE CHILLLDDDRREENNN!! No, really, it’s for a child..a family, really.

The Hogelands (a family in my hometown) were adopting 2 HIV+ girls. They raised the funds to go the first time with intentions of bringing both home, but due to a change in the country’s laws at the very last minute, they were forced to leave one behind. Their other daughter, “V”, had to watch her mama and sister leave without her. They are now having to start back over at square one to raise the funds to go BACK and get V. If you can help, please do. If you cannot, then just–PLEASE–share so that someone else can. They are running short on time. Please and thank you.

HERE IS THE LINK, GO, READ, WATCH THE VIDEO, DONATE, OR–AT LEAST–SHARE (will open in new window):

BRING HOME V

From Kate Hogeland’s blog:

“If you have followed our family’s journey you will know that this is not where we expected to be right now.  My  husband and I went to Eastern Europe to adopt two little girls. In the midst of the process the country we were going to changed their laws.  Children under 5 could no longer be adopted internationally unless they have certain special needs.  Our little ones have HIV, but this is not considered a special need.

We waited and waited hoping the law would be changed to include HIV. However, eventually we had to go ahead and go over for one of our girls because our dossier was expiring and she was aging out of her orphanage soon.  So we went in January of 2012 still hoping that while we were in country the law would be changed.

It wasn’t.

So we got to meet our other little one which was wonderful and excruciating.  She is precious and beautiful and sweet.  We couldn’t spend much time with her but we did see her a good bit.  We watched her preform in a Christmas program.  Several times she held my hand.  On many occasions she brought me her coat and shoes and would say, “Mama, help?”  When we finally walked out of the orphanage with our daughter Eva Marina, “V” stood at the top of the stairs and watched us walk out.  Seeing her up there, and leaving her behind made an emotional day almost more than I could handle.

Our girls are not blood relatives, but they were in the same groupa and were good friends.  Eva Marina has asked about V several times.  She loves to look at her pictures.  It would be so amazing for both of them to get to grow up together.

We knew we would go back for V.  The hard part is starting over so soon after coming home.  And the cost of adopting 2 kids at once is not much more than 1, but now we start almost all over.  Some costs will be less, but we start fundraising all over again.  But now, we have a newly adopted daughter at home who doesn’t do well with too much stimulation and can’t be left for hours on end.

I raised several thousand dollars doing hair cuts last time. I would work for 8 hours a day doing cuts non stop.  Now I can not do that.  Planning events to raise funds has also proved difficult while in the adjustment with our newest little one.  I just can’t find time for everything I need to do.

I am almost paralyzed with fear about the daunting financial aspect of doing this again.  But V is worth it.  I have Hope.  I am terrified but moving forward.

So, here we go again. I hope you will join us on our journey back to our other precious child!”

I mean, REALLY, how can you not share?

Oh, The SHAME!

This photo is going around right now and, not surprisingly, many are calling it abuse. Mental abuse. Humiliating, yes, but..abuse? Ehh…

What say you good people out there? Is this mental abuse? What is your opinion on this type of discipline, in general?

Here is my comment on the post on Babble.com’s Facebook (plus a little more detail), summing up my opinion:

I can’t believe this is seriously being dubbed as abuse by some people. That’s laughable, at best. I got caught at a party when I was 15. My dad carried me and my best friend out over his shoulders. I was forever known as “the girl whose dad busted up the Hope Lake party”. It was humiliating! HOWEVER:

1.) Nothing my parents did led me to that party. I lied and left a football game to go. Peer pressure led me there.

2.) I didn’t lose respect for my parents. I still trusted them, though I was temporarily (very) angry. I understood even then WHY they did what they did.

3.) I learned a valuable lesson: don’t sneak off to parties, I will get caught. It wasn’t my last party, but it definitely slowed me down.

4.) To compare being humiliated for making a stupid choice to being abused HAS TO BE a serious slap in the face to anyone who has ever been mentally abused. My parents were not abusive and, in my opinion, neither is this mother.

5.) My parents are wonderful, amazing people. I love them and respect them. I have never feared them, but I did expect to be appropriately punished for things I did wrong. At 26, my mom is NOW my best friend. I thank God she didn’t try to be my BFF back then.

According to one reader, the mom said this in response:

“Some said the public humiliation would have long-term effects, that she would hate me forever for this. You have to know your child. I wouldn’t do this on my middle child because I don’t think she can emotionally handle it. But this one, she’ll be just fine. Yes, I got the ‘you’re ruining my life’ rant, but after a few hours, she was trying to figure out how she can start an organization at her school to raise awareness about social media responsibility.”

Your thoughts?

Cue Panic, Chaos, Confusion

Last I noticed, the kids were holding hands and dancing in the kitchen, directly in front of my open door. Unbeknownst to me, while I was Facebooking, the son acquired a screwdriver (Stop it. I know you are judging me. Stop.). Next thing I know, son runs toward something and stabs it. After a loud popping sound, Sugar screams, “You stabbed a hole in it!!” I see a cloud of something that looks like smoke…maybe aerosol something or other being sprayed. I jump up and run towards the cloud, screaming, “Get away from it! GET AWAAAYYY FROM ITTTT!!!! “…I don’t know what, exactly, I think is about to happen. Surely, it’s going to explode or something. The kids are inhaling toxic fumes of a substance not-yet identified!! It’s probably blinding them right now! Oh, GOD! It’s going to EXXXPPLLOOODDDEEE! RUN!!!!

So, as I approach the exploding aerosol can of toxic substance, I nearly bust my ass and get sprayed in the face by this stuff! I’m going to be blind, too! We’re all going to be BLIIINNNDD! I finally see the bottle of the deadly, blinding gas…

 

 

 

 

/areyoukiddingme

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s sprite.
/dead

Remind Me To Never Put Things Where I Can Easily Find Them

It happens Every. Single. Time. And, please, tell me it happens to you too… I came home, put my purse down, and walked around for a bit while holding onto my keys. Realizing that my keys were still in my hand, I decided I should put them up before I accidentally lost them. My purse was too far away for me to bother walking, so I just stuck them in the first easy-to-remember-but-out-of-children’s-reach place I saw. Bad idea.

I woke up early this morning for my appointment. I was proud of myself–I was going to be able to get myself and the kids ready, then have time to kill before having to leave to get there 10 minutes early. I get ready, feed the kids, then head to grab something from my car…it’s locked. I walk into my bedroom, open my drawer–where I’m certain I left the keys, but the keys aren’t there. That’s right, I put them on top of the fridge. Hmm, not there either. Oh! My bedside organizer thing! Duh! Nope. On the shelf in the living room, by the door? Nah-uh.

WRONG! THEY AREN'T THERE!!!!

On top of the microwave?

On the coffee table?

In the bathroom, where I’ll see them while getting ready?

In my make-up bag?

In the laundry room?

Under my bed?!

Down under the couch cushions?!

In the box my new camera came in?!?!

Dear God, WHERE ARE THEY?!

My car is push-to-start and, I swear, I even carried the trash bag out to my car and held it up to the door while pressing the button and praying the door unlocked (I was not about to dig through the trash without being sure they were in there..). An hour of searching, and I still have no clue where they are. I finally called and rescheduled my appointment. It’s also Hubby’s birthday and I was supposed to go get his cake before he gets home from work. Now, he will likely come home to a completely destroyed house and find me stuck upside down in the big trash can…desperately searching for the keys. /WIFEFAIL

It’s just like when I hide things from the kids. I hide the thing I do not want them to find and–go figure—I’ve hidden it from myself, too. Why does this happen?

Why, God, WHY?!

It’s not just me, right? …..RIGHT?!?

First World Problems of a SAHM

First World Problems Of A Stay At Home Mom

• I woke up 2 hrs before the kids. I wasted quality sleep.
• I’m out of caffeine.
• The children expect to be fed at least 3 times a day.

• I am running late for something, as usual.
• WHERE IS YOUR OTHER SHOE?!
• I can’t find the DVR remote. How am I going to do anything if I don’t have SpongeBob on demand to occupy the children?
• The baby took off her diaper in her crib at nap time. She had pooped.
• Laundry

• I just poured the kids’ cereal, only to discover that I’m out of milk.
• I have to go grocery shopping…with the children.
• Another toy is clogging the toilet, yet someone pooped in it anyway.
• I woke up later than the toddlers. They found my craft drawer.
• Why must I listen to the kids fight over which one gets which color cup?!
• The baby is poopy. DAMN IT! I’m out of diapers.
• The parents in McDonald’s play area keep trying to talk to me about their kids.

• I forgot to lay out dinner.
• Hubby didn’t take out the trash. It’s full and the trash can is by the road.
• Someone colored on my couch.
• My corkscrew is missing.
• There is nothing interesting to read on the interwebz.

• I have a stomach virus.
• The children have a stomach virus.
• I’m out of wine.
• The kids finally learned to open the doors on their own.
• Baby gates are no longer effective.

(These are not necessarily all mine. I compiled the list from other SAHMs, as well.)

Tell me yours and I might add them to the list!

*Disclaimer: I am very well aware that I did not create the “First World Problems” meme. Not claiming to, either. There are a lot of FWP of SAHM posts out there. Just clarifying.

Winning At Discipline!

“Some’uh y’all done lost y’all minds,
Some’uh y’all done lost y’all minds,
Some’uh y’all done lost y’all minds,
And it made me cry, cry, cry.”
-Kilo Ali

Kilo wrote this chorus with me and my future children in mind. He was specifically thinking of how this past week would be for us, I’m fairly certain.

Lately, Sugar has been very, how do I put it?..DESTRUCTIVE. Sugar and The Samurai have both been destructive, really. It has gone way past the typical shredding of anything shreddable and disassembling anything with multiple parts. I have cleaned up insane amounts water, paint, whiteout, sugar (of the edible variety), salt, and toothpaste out of the children’s bathroom floor. I have scrubbed toothpaste out of rugs. I have cleaned cereal out of my living room floor. I cleaned glitter glue off of my hardwoods.

Not my kids.

I can’t let my 5 year old go potty alone anymore, nor can I go to bed at night without waking to some sort of unnatural disaster having occurred in one room or another. They either do it instead of pottying, pretend to be sleeping and do it once I’ve fallen asleep, or they wake up ridiculously early and do it before I realize they are up. I am just going to start including my Klonopin in my morning cocktail of drugs I take to function.

I am already taking it damn near daily anyway! (Chill out, I have a script) Hell, I took a piece of one half-way through a grocery store run tonight–just to stop myself from parking the buggy containing the kids down an empty aisle..and running. Fast.

I have tried every form of discipline known to man, short of stringing them in a tree by their toenails. That’s next.

I’ve gone the gentle route..talking. I think I’m doing it wrong. They smile at me the entire me I’m speaking. When I ask why they did whatever it was, they laugh and say something like, “Because my brain is a silly brain and it told me to!” Sometimes, they just say, “POOP!” /sigh

I’ve tried time-out. It isn’t effective for one of two possible reasons: 1.) They don’t care; or 2.) I have ADHD and forget they are in time out 30 seconds after I put them there. It’s probably both.

I’ve tried “grounding” them from certain things. They haz no caring.

I’ve even done the unspeakable…I spanked. When your kids giggle while you are spanking them, you are doing it wrong. I am doing it wrong.

I give up.