Welcome to the craziness....

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

The dark depths of the minivan...



If you are a long time reader...or even if you are a first time reader, because I only post every once in a blue moon...
You will know that my husband is a hoarder/pack rat/mess maker/etc...
Of course I say all this from high atop my throne of neatness.
Only I am not neat.
I just choose not to be messy at home.
Because I already clean up for 4 other people.
And adding one more...
Well, frankly the thought exhausts me.
Therefore, I try and keep my mess inside the house to a minimal.
Which really, with the 4 other people making their messes means nothing.

Anyhoo, my van?
Welllllll, that is an ENTIRELY different story.

First off, can we just talk about the fact I am driving a minvan?
What happened to me? Where is the gal I knew in college who drove the little red Acura Integra?
Oh no, she is LOOOOOONG gone.
It's just me and my swagger wagon now.
And I am ok with that.

Or maybe that is the source of the problem with the van.
I haven't fully accepted and loved and embraced the fact I am a "minivan mom".
I am subconsciously disrespectin' the mini....

You see, for every paper I throw away in the house....
There is at least 10 scribbled on photocopied pictures crumpled in my van.

For every coffee cup I place in the sink, rinse out and then put away at home...
There are at least 2 juice boxes from days ago, and numerous sippy cups with congealed like substances growing in them....

You get the point? The minivan is a steep, scary, slippery slope, of old fast food, and ground in cheerios...

So, why do I share this deepest darkest secret with you?

It is because on our class field trips last week I was asked to transport other children...

And not only that.

But a teacher.

A teacher?!?? Say what?!??

Hold up, I gotta run out to the mini and try and scrape the bubblegum off the seats!!!!

So yes, I arrive to school last week and the teacher informs me that the assistant teacher will be riding with me to the pumpkin patch.

(mind you, I learned this at 7:50am, we were leaving the school at 8am)

Needless to say while the teacher was prepping the kids on being on their best pumpkin patch behavior I made a mad dash to the minivan clutching my little Kroger sack, hoping it was big enough to stash all the scary things I knew I was about to find....

It was not a good sign when I hit the button to slide open the door and various things kept tumbling out.

It was actually a pretty cool fall day and I was profusely sweating by the time I had picked up all the trash which included raisins, that I am pretty sure at some point had been grapes.... Along with french fries that could be used as weapons....

Needless to say, later in the week it was time to go on the second child's field trip and the teacher kindly sent me a note the day before saying that she and two other students would be riding with us on the field trip!
(How did I get so lucky?!?!)

This time we made a little trip to the trusty Mr. Sparkle and got our van wash on.

I was so proud...

I even opened that door on that Friday...and not a thing came tumbling out....

Then about 20 minutes into the drive one of the children spoke up from the back seat that he'd found a funny looking Frisbee in one of the console thingys...

My son piped up too, and said, "noooo, that isn't a Frisbee, that's a bagel from last week."

Ok, so I still have a ways to go on keeping the minivan clean.

I'll own that.

In the meantime, I am going to go make sure I can slide the door open in carline without anything falling out.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

De-Clutter???


Many of you know this already...
But I am married to a hoarder.

Now, I use this term affectionately...

At least until a certain time of the month hits then I lose all control and I am tempted to call in the 1-800-Got-Junk guys....

I mean how many times do I have to hang up the wet towel after the shower?

How many pairs of shoes can possibly be left out in the living room?

Must we keep EVERY issue of Sports Illustrated?

Is it really necessary to keep a plastic tote full of pants entitled "snug pants".

I kid you not.
That tote does in fact exist...
I hope he knows he is NEVER wearin' those again.
You can kiss those 32's goodbye buddy.

It is a fine line I walk...between wondering if every time the doorbell rings it's the crew from TLC's Hoarders. or if it's the meat man trying to sell me meat for the 8,000th time this year....

Can't he take a simple No?
There is something weird about buying meat out of the back of a truck...
No??

And he always rings the doorbell right at naptime.

Hey, crazy meat man...take your ribeyes elsewhere!

Ok, so anyway...the hoarding.
It drives me mad.
And truthfully it's not really hoarding.
It's just lots of junk.
Everywhere.
That he doesn't throw away.

Humor me now... it's not hoarding... right??

Well, anyway, I try not to let it bother me, but of course it does.
I mean when I have to go hunting for the children because I have lost them in a stack of CD's circa 1990...think Billy Joel, "We didn't Start The Fire".... We got problems.
And I do want to start the fire.
And throw all the junk in there.
And watch it burn.
And dream of a simpler life....

However, a wise man once said....
"Who did you marry....a clean house or your husband?"

Ahhhhh.
Yes.
About that.
Hmmmmm....

He is SO right.

I am NOT going to change my husband. I can't.
And I don't want to.

No amount of nagging and reminding is going to change a person. Some may comply for a time, to get the nagging to stop but then they will begin the habit again soon enough. The greatest power for change that we have as wives is prayer.
~Taken from Christian Stay-at-home Moms 

So that is exactly what I am going to do... I am taking it to the Lord.

Because let's face it, that's all we can do.

We are who we are, and that is how he designed us... And I know that he designed my husband and I for each other...
And even though there are days where I am fairly certain God has a BIG sense of humor and wants to make me crazy with all this junk...
I am reminded that it's not me in control.
It's Him.