Please read this sentence in your very best impression of Britney Spears or someone with an equally idiotic and uneducated style of speaking:
OK, y’all, I’ve been sooo busy and that’s why I haven’t blogged since Saturday. So stop yellin’ at me, y’all! I’m tired!
Now please return to reading in your normal voice. Or my normal voice. Or whoever’s voice with which you normally use when reading my blog. Do you use someone else’s voice entirely? That’s weird. There could be something wrong with you. Get checked, please.
(Pssst… also, I think you have gonorrhea.)
What have I been so busy with that’s kept me from blogging? I currently have a cleaning bug and am attacking our house with a vengeance. Don’t worry, my bug’s not contagious. Unlike your gonorrhea. (Seriously, you need some penicillin, dude.) Anyway, we got all the way through the garage over the weekend and have tagged MANY boxes for garbage/recycling/donation/sale. Today I worked on the storage closet under the stairs and found tons more to toss. It’s such a good feeling! You know the feeling I’m talking about—the one when you finally decide it is NOT the best idea to set your house afire because it’s so full of trash.
I’m not done yet. I still need to go through our room and Jack’s closet. Jack is very excited to get rid of things because it means he can get more things, or so he thinks. He is not very bright.
As much as I would love to go through Katie’s room, she’s very protective of everything she owns. Yesterday she saw a bag of beads I had put in a box labeled “good-bye!” and she flipped. I told her that I was only getting rid of her plastic, crappy, cheap beads because she has much nicer beads now. She sighed. I told her FINE, if she really wanted, she could pick out the ones she liked best. She brought the bag back to me later with about a third of what I had put in there. Gah. And I’m not exaggerating when I say she has about 3o0 stuffed animals in her room. Is she willing to part with any of them, say, the ones she no longer plays with because SHE IS TEN FRIGGIN’ YEARS OLD??? There’s a Minnie Mouse she says is creepy and she’s willing to get rid of that. Otherwise, no.
If I had hair to pull out, she would totally make me be doing that right now.
I’m not going to get into the whole thing about me being exactly this way when I was little, and how my mom is now laughing her ass off about me having to deal with what she had to deal with blah blah blah. This issue causes so much tension between me and Katie that I have to force myself to sit back and not nag her about it. If I went into her room right now (she’s not home at the moment) and picked 25 stuffed animals off her shelves, I know she’d never notice. But I just can’t do that to her. I want her to know she can trust me. So I’m trying, as much as possible, to encourage her to choose the things she wants to hang on to for now; unfortunately, right now she wants to hang on to everything.
Besides the stress over Katie’s certain future on a multi-episode arc of Hoarders, the simplifying process is going well. I’m excited to be clearing out one Rubbermaid storage box after another, one shelf after another, one closet after another. I don’t know where my energy is coming from, but I’m not going to question it or it’ll get scared and disappear again.
Cleaning. Organizing. Sorting. Recycling. Donating. Throwing away. THAT is what has kept me from posting anything since Saturday. I still need to blog about the American Cancer Society Relay for Life I participated in over the weekend—it was an incredible experience, but I know it’ll take some time to get my thoughts down because I have so many. I am very thought-ful. Not necessarily thoughtful. Thought-ful, like “full of thoughts.” For now, though, I gotta go. I can’t remember if I showered this morning, and even if I did, I am ripe. Glad to know that, aren’tcha?
There must be purging in the air because we've been trying to do the same thing! It's tough with the kids things especially for sure!
ReplyDeleteThere is hope for Katie and her stuffed animals. I had some when your dad and I got married, and like all loving, caring, owners of stuffed animals, displayed them on our bed when I made it each day. One day your dad looked at them all neatly arranged, and suggested that it could appear he bed down with a teenager and he didn't like that. So I got rid of them. Perhaps the same experience is in Katie's future--so, see, there is hope!!
ReplyDeleteAlso, Jen, it would seem there are still some unresolved issues around your bottle caps. I'm open to counseling--want to join me??
Mom, every time you bring up the bottle caps it sets my recovery back several years. STOP IT. ;)
ReplyDeleteOK, I'll make you a deal. You stop bringing up things that send me into fits of guilt, and I promise never the mention the b.c. again.... Deal?? :-)))
ReplyDelete