living after the death of a baby, living with Autism, living as a family of six, living on our organic homestead, living miserably, hopefully, and with joy, and somedays just living

A place for everything

and nothing in it’s place.  Growing up I was very disorganized my locker and my desk always were the worst in the class, I got dressed from the pile of clothes on the floor, seriously I was a pig.  When I moved out on my own things got better, but we always lived in some form of clutter.  Then something snapped I wanted it to be tidy and organized, very organized. 

 

The problem is that I have four kids, and Kyle doesn’t see the importance of it and only 24 hours in the day.  I try and be tidy and clean, yet I can never seem to manage it at the end of the day, things never look the way I want them too.  Seriously it can take me days to actually get the vacuum out because I encounter so many interruptions in a day.  I can go a few day where I can tell myself, this is a period in my life, I won’t have little kids forever, a clean floor isn’t as important, as coloring with them or building the tallest lego tower ever.  But the floor is important to me, and I can only go so long having to wipe my feet off on my pantleg because I can’t stand the feeling of spilled granola stuck to my feet, and I think it is important for the kids to know that we need to respect our house and our things, by keeping track of them and keeping our living space clear of messes. 

 

Part of the problem is that Kyle doesn’t see the mess, seriously, he can’t see it.  I walk into a room and I see not only the scattering of toys, the coffee cup from yesterday, but also that the rug is crooked and that the window ledge needs wiping down, as well as the fingerprints on the TV, and the entertainment unit needs dusting.  I get frustrated asking him for help sometimes, because he’ll pick up the toys and the coffee cup but miss the rest. 

 

I love having a made bed getting into an unmade bed is like wearing yesterdays clothes.  It used to be that Kyle wouldn’t make the bed because we had too many pillows and blankets and that it was just to complicated, so I got rid of the toss cushions and the bed spread, which I love.  Now all you have to do to make our bed is throw up the the duvet and have it land on the bed.  But wouldn’t you know Kyle actually then gave me the argument that unmade beds are unhealthier.  I  guess some study found that if you make your bed you trap more heat and moisture under the bedding making it a better breeding ground for dust mites than an unmade bed.  Ugh, so if I want the bed made I have to do it myself.  Not such a big deal right?  I mean its really easy now right?  The problem is that there are literally dozens of those types of arguments.  If I want the foyer to have the shoes on the shelf I have to do it, and Kyle’s shoes get to stay on the floor so he doesn’t have to put them or get them from the shelf, if I want to have the side board in the dinning room clear I have to do it, if I want plants I have to water them, if the couch is to have toss cushions I have to put them back when they get put on the floor, if I want the garden to be completely weeded I have to do it.  Don’t get me wrong Kyle does tonnes of stuff around here, he does the dishes every night by unload and reloading the dish washer, but he’s not one to put things back, and he certainly doesn’t see why the rice has to go in a special spot in the pantry, isn’t it enough to put it in there?  I have to give up on anything decorative because Kyle doesn’t see the point, and I can’t keep up with it all.   

 

Not being able to do it all makes me want to explode, for a few reasons, a lot of my organizing gets undone, the kids makes messes while I clean messes, I can’t have things that look pretty because no one else cares that they do. Sometimes I can trick myself in to saying it’s okay I’ll get to it, living is more important than the mess.   Then it all get to a point where not one room in the house is tidy, where I must step over something 4 or 5 times just to go to the bathroom, and then I lose it. My melt downs aren’t pretty either.  After losing it, I have a tremendous sense of guilt because I let the mess become more important than the people living in it

 

Someday my kids will grow up and move out, and you can ring my doorbell I will have a very tidy house, and be able to invite you in without apologizing, and I will miss the chaos.

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Comments on: "A place for everything" (3)

  1. I agree with you Erron, I cannot stand having that feeling of stuff on my feet and the “kitty hair tumbleweeds” blowing across the floor. It drives me up the wall. I tend to be the cleaner or the neat freak in our household and I know that Lindsay loves a clean place because “acts of service” is one of her love languages so when I do it she feels loved. Sounds like your an “acts of service” person as well.

    Is there a way you could build keeping the place clean into the kids daily routine? Yeah this coming from a non-parent I know. just throwing out suggestions.

  2. I like the clean things as I go too. I can relate to what you are saying totally, I hate coming in the door and tripping on shoes. My home is my nest and I like it tidy. Chad and I have done pretty well as we think mostly the same. But people definitely have different tolerance levels for mess.

    Hell, when I have watched Hoarders, I realize some people can’t even put their snot rag or pizza box or anything in the garbage. That show stresses me out. Having things orderly and relatively clean make me feel calmer. I understand with kids the definition of clean certainly changes, as they come with lots of stuff and sticky little fingers : )

    Maybe some areas can have light rules, play areas and such, but a few others are more strict. James was just talking about how his kitchen is becoming his zone and he wants to keep the counters clear. I think that reasonable!

  3. I hear you on this one! I’m certainly not as intrinsically a neat person as you are, but I have such moments of overwhelm and frustration with the constant mess. I wish I knew what the answer was, whether assigned chores, an emptier house, or better organization. Some days I make peace with the amount of work I get done compared to the amount I feel I should be doing but I have days where I get overwhelmed and I feel resentful of my family for creating so much work. It’ll come around for both of us someday I’m sure!

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