Ironing

I have a long and established history of being anti-ironing. I usually drag the iron and board out once every three years, and only when I absolutely have to. I've been known to pass on perfect pants when I realize they will require ironing. I once jokingly cast the evil spirit of ironing out of a group of friends.

So I was surprised when the occasion came up that I wanted to watch a tv show in the middle of the day but couldn't justify sitting on my rear end doing nothing else... so I got out the ironing board, the iron, the scented ironing water I had bought and never used and went to work on anything I could find that needed ironing: scarves, cloth napkins, trousers, even t-shirts. I was able to watch tv and have a strong sense of accomplishment at the same time. By the time I was done, I actually felt more relaxed and had less pain in my neck. I had never known about the therapeutic value of ironing, otherwise I'd have taken it up years go.

I left the board up in the living room (much to Tim's irritation, I might add!) and looked for every opportunity to sneak back in their and iron the wrinkles out of my laundry and ruffled spirit! Tim even honored my request for a can of starch. On the day I found myself ironing The Boys' underwear and the bed sheets I figured it had gone too far. But what's a tense girl to do when all the traditionally ironable laundry is done and she needs a fix? When I start ironing my money, please have me committed. We all have our boundaries.

How about you all? Are you pro- or anti-ironing?

Ode To My Dishwasher

I'm feeling especially appreciative of my dishwasher today, so I'm reposting the Ode To My Dishwasher I wrote after moving into a new house in Germany:

There once was a time I did dishes by hand
What a pain in the back-side that was
Three times a day all activities planned
Around immersing my hands in the suds

Then we piled our things in a moving van
Waving good-bye to the kitchen and sink
We moved to a house found by My Man
After my water-logged hands made him think

It’s bigger, it’s better, it’s greater by far
In many more ways than I’ll say
But without a doubt this home’s shining star
Is the dishwasher doing the dishes each day

There’s no use in hiding what some would call love
The affection I feel is quite strong
This compact machine’s a gift from above
I think I may break into song

~Reese V.

The Magic of the Laundromat

I had several blankets and comforters that needed to be washed, so I took up residence at the base laundromat yesterday for a full two hours. I brought along all the other laundry that needed washing as well. The kids tell me it felt like we spent all day there, but to me time flew. See, I'm convinced that for a SAHM, a laundromat is a magical place. (Especially for a mom with a mini-washing machine and dryer.) Where else can I go to do two day's worth of laundry in two hour's time?! It was bliss.

So, forget the coffee shop...

forget the gym...

don't even bother with a stroll through the park...

or a day at the beach...

All the soul-lifting, mind-easing rest you need...

is at the laundromat!

You may even find a giant moth to make your smile a little wider.

(BTW, my headache is nearly gone, just a lingering tightness and a bruise. I fell asleep at 10pm, which is spectacular compared to my bedtimes of late. But I woke up again at 3am... all I could think about was how I had misspelled "laundromat" in my last post! LOL! I almost got up out of bed right then to fix it! Good grief...)

Venting My Frustrations

No matter how much those of us who stay home with children try to change our title- SAHM, domestic engineer, household engineer, home manager, etc- the bottom line is that the job doesn't change. I'm still a housewife. A wife at the house. The one who does the dishes, changes the diapers, makes the meals, chauffeurs the kids here and there, changes the sheets, wipes down the counters and cleans the same adorable hands and faces countless times in a day.

Having been home with my kids the better part of 14 1/2 years, there is very little of this job left to surprise me. The joys of the job are trumpeted by most, the day-to-day difficulties of organizing and toilet training are well-covered by both experts and moms who have become experts by trial-and-error, but the difficulties some of us find in the actual staying home aren't often talked about. I think it's because most SAHM's see it as a blessing, even when it's difficult. To vocalize that we find it hard would make us targets for working moms who want to be home and can't. And I've seen it from both sides: not only have I been home with my kids but I worked for several years and felt the sting of dropping my kids off at daycare and preschool, into the hands of people who did their jobs for a living and didn't love my kids. I heard the cries of my babies while the knowledge that I had to turn away so I wouldn't be late to work weighed heavily on me. I spent many frustrated days wanting nothing more than to shed the skirt and heels and be home in sweats with my children.

I've found myself in a place I was sure I'd never be. I saw my mom here, twenty years ago. I saw the draw of other things, things done less for kids and more for herself. I wanted to kiss the last "baby" good-bye at his wedding and feel the urge to have another baby so it wouldn't be over. (There are people like that out there!) But instead, I'm getting ready to kiss my youngest good-bye at the preschool door, and my mind is already wandering to other things- to the college classes I never took, to the book left unwritten for years, to the hobbies I never had time for.

I find myself longing for a simpler life. There are too many things cluttering my house. Two days ago I had to fight a nearly overwhelming urge to throw out half the stuff in my kitchen. As I write this I begin to wonder if fighting it was the right thing to do. The stuff weighs me down. It clutters my mind as well as my counters. And in a season where I'm feeling bogged down in too many ways, I don't need that.

I guess I need to lighten my load. I want home to be an anchor in an ever shifting world, but not a weight. Somehow, staying home has begun to feel like a weight.

In the midst of all this, I am aware that I am blessed. My kids are healthy and growing to know God. My husband works hard and loves us all. I have a roof over my head and food in the cupboard. We can afford gas. As the Rachel Lampa song "Blessed" says:

I am blessed, I am blessed
From when I rise up in the morning
Til I lay my head to rest
I feel You near me
You sooth me when I'm weary
Oh Lord, for all the worst and all the best
I am blessed

All for HIS glory, In HIS timing,

Today is the First Day of the Rest of My Diet

It's that time again. I've yo-yo'd down... or it it up?... and now it's time to work my way back in the other direction. Last summer, when Tim was in Kuwait, I lost nearly 15 pounds- all of which have found there way back home.

Sunday I allowed myself a small piece of cake and a cup of coffee, then I started being good. Until Tim bought me an ice cream cone at a church youth fundraiser. THEN I was an angel. Until Kristine reminded me that I owed her a just-us-girls cream tea. Unfortunately, the place we were planning to go was closed, so we went to Tesco and bought a pack of scones, clotted cream, an assortment of jams, and decaff tea, since our tea party was going to be in the evening. I had a blast- Kristine's the sweetest and funniest daughter I could have asked for- but instead of the one scone with clotted cream and jam I would have had out, there was a whole dish of them and I had seconds. As Mark Twain said, "I deal with temptation by yielding to it."

Ah, but today's a new day. I've made it past breakfast and so far, so good.

I think the key is forgetting about food. That's hard for me because I eat when I'm happy, I eat when bored, I eat when I'm distracted, I eat when I'm hungry, I eat when I'm not. So I've assigned myself the cleaning and arrainging of my bedroom. It's right across the hall from Tim's music room and it catches all the odd things that don't fit in there. There were 3 keyboards leaning against walls, just to name three of about 30 things right inside the door that didn't belong there. I relocated most of it and finished half the room. Today I'm going to find a home for the hundreds of cd's that Tim said two months ago would be stacked near my side of the bed for "just a day or two."

I'm back to feeling like my room is a haven and I'm not even done. This dieting thing is turning into a really good idea. Now to see if I lose any weight.

My Bathroom Shelf Project

The problem: Very little bathroom or cleaning supply storage space in my home. We've tried to make do with extra shelves, such as in our downstairs guest bathroom. Here is the before photo of the over-the-toilet shelving unit:

The Solution: Cheap baskets from the One Pound Store (making each basket cost about $2 each.)...

Plus fat quarters from the BXtra, along with ribbon and a hot glue gun...

And, voila, my bathroom shelves looks slightly more organized. Actually, I'd eventually like to find taller baskets that hide what's inside better, but I'm happy with this current improvement for now.


~Reese, who isn't an organizing junky, but wishes she was! ;)

I [heart] My Clothesline

I'm in love with my clothesline. The first time I hung my clothes over my unfinished yard, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. I was saving money on electricity by passing on the clothes dryer, and I was connecting with my pioneer roots as well. "Isn't it beautiful?" I asked Tim one Saturday morning after I'd hung the laundry. "You look like a pioneer woman out there," he remarked. "You should take a picture."

Never mind that Sean burst out with "What?! Our laundry's drying outside? It's not the Dark Ages!"

I've threatened to hang Sean and Kristine's undies out there as punishment if they ever misbehave. I think they plan to be angels.

I have to admit that I don't hang my own granny panties out. Maybe on days my prettier underpants go through the wash I'll hang those out; make the neighbors think I always were sexy panties. If anyone's taking note now, they think my little boys are the only ones in our family who wear underwear.


The only problem I have is the finicky English weather. It will be a clear sunny morning, with not a cloud in the sky, but by the time a load of laundry gets through the s-l-o-w English wash cycle it will be clouding over. By the time I get the last clothes pin on the last item of clothes the rain drops are falling.

Today was a cloudy day, with the temperatures hovering in the lower 40's and I hung 4 loads out. Seems like a lot, but considering that I have American coffee mugs bigger than my English washer, it's not much. I shivered as I savored the peace while I clipped the clothes to the line. I shivered when I went out to check their progress. I shivered as I gathered them up and took them inside. Then I shivered again as I rehung them when I realized the clothes weren't just cold, they were still damp. Ah, the joys of partaking in pioneer life!

I can't wait for summer.

I am NOT an Organizing Junkie... But I'll Try

I think deep down inside, hidden between the part of me that doodles and wishes I was a painter and the part that hums and wishes I was a great vocalist, is the ability to organize. I came to this conclusion is 1998 when I got a job at a finance company. I start out as a debt collector, worked my way into the legal aspect of suing the numerous clients who bailed on their high risk loan repayments, then found myself in the position of assistant manager, running the small office when the manager was away. My spotless desk and immaculate desk drawers were a glaring contrast to my comfortably-lived-in-verging-on-out-of-control apartment. When I moved to another, even smaller office as manager I was meticulous in my file keeping- even going so far as to open and reorganize every file in the cabinet so that they were entirely uniform and tidy enough to make the state examiner gasp in happy appreciation. My assistant manager once commented, "I can only imagine how spotless your house must be!" Oy. If only she knew!

I didn't grow up learning housekeeping skills- that ability runs rather shallow in my family- that's how I am fairly confident that I must have a natural ability lurking somewhere beneath my skin's surface. After this move I am determined to force it out of hiding. How much easier my life would have been in the past two months if my house was as hyper-organized as my office once was. With another move facing me in 3-4 years, I don't think it's too early to get started.

I plan to become a faithful follower of Laura, of I'm An Organizing Junkie. That's why she's listed in the blogroll, and why I am adding her Monthly Organizing Round-Up button on the sidebar. I'll post about my adventures in finding my hidden inner Monica (all you "Friends" fans know who I mean), and hopefully find some peace of mind along the way. Feel free to join in, if you have the need and will to do so!