Half-eaten Pizza and Water Puddles

There are sippy cups strewn throughout my home, tipped up on one end as they leak their contents onto my floor. Poor Caleb just slipped on one of these said "water puddles" and we got to enjoy a moment of drama from one of my very dramatic children, much weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth ensued. How is it that without even having time to absorb Jonathan and my own dramatic inclinations, they genetically just ARE dramatic, all on their own?!?!?!?! I mean, all 5 of them! 

Anyhow, I digress. The real focus on this little "rant" is my kitchen. I have had a migraine today, those usually don't come very often but it was a whopper. I was pretty much completely useless, laying around in fits of pain and nausea. Jonathan was a trooper and made a feast for lunch, two of them actually. Revamped pizza (he makes the frozen ones taste homemade) and thai lettuce wraps. Yum. I then had a nice little cat nap after lunch. Hey, wait a minute, I got my Sunday day of rest just a day late! But upon entering my kitchen this late afternoon, the sight that I behold is enough to make me want to pack up the kids and go for a long long drive. Preferably somewhere clean where meals are provided. Any takers?

You may think I am exaggerating, but I am going to lay down my pride and show you a little snapshot of my kitchen chaos at the moment. Brace yourselves:

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I guess now that I see it on this page, it isn't as bad as it is in my mind. But it is now 4:00 pm, I have NO plans for dinner (leftovers anyone?) I have whiny kids who I neglected all day while I recovered and top it all off with a house to clean. Lets not even mention the 8 loads of laundry that are waiting to be dealt with. The migraine is still reverberating  in my scalp and I would be perfectly content with taking this broken down body back to the sweet escape of my blankets. But alas, Jonathan is back and work and there is no one to tag team with me. So… what am I sitting around here for? 

I guess because when I see the to do list sitting in front of me, it always makes more sense to write about it than to actually do it. Procrastination at its finest people. 

Time to kick this butt into gear. ;) 

Pending Proclamation

Wind. Rain. Sun. Clouds. Fall.

My favorite season. A time for schedules, routines, new possibilities and opportunities. This fall, I have a list of proclamations. I cannot promise to follow them... I am notorious for my lack of follow-through capabilities. But I can promise to try, and to give it a charging start. This is my last week of summer, starting Monday, I am determined to have more routine in our home. And so it is that I promise that:

I will no longer allow myself to sleep in

I will have a coffee before my children present me with their routine whining

I will have a shower so that I feel not like a human hairball, but rather a person... better yet, a mom

I will go on my walk so that I have had time to prepare myself for the onslaught of childhood antics I will undeniably face

I will maintain a clean and organized house

I will teach my children to do daily chores even though it is easier to just do it myself

I will have my kids on a regular, daily sleep schedule to which I will adhere faithfully

I will turn off the TV all day except for while I prepare dinner

I will follow my weekly schedule as faithfully as I can

I will ditch the cereal and mac and cheese and feed my kids healthy, nutritious meals and snacks

I will spend less time on the computer and more time with my kids

I will prepare a weekly meal plan and follow it, determining to make a family dinner each night

I will make a conscious effort to be more careful with our money. To not spend as much and budget more.

Organzing Overload.

I begin my day as usual, with a glorious cup of coffee... all is well in the Spooner household. My son screams, and yet I remain calm and controlled. My daughter cries in defiance... and still my mind is at peace. And then I look around me, not at my whining kids, but rather at the state of my small abode, and I am instantly discouraged. I know I have written posts regarding "house maintenance" before, but it seems to be a constant battle that I can never seem to win. I work on one room of the house until it is perfectly organized, and somehow there is ALWAYS another area that is in complete shambles. Jonathan can't find his keyes because the front entrance is a mess, I can't find my cell phone because there is no safe place (away from little fingers that is) to hide it. And so it is, that no matter how hard I work, there is always more. And I must admit I am tiring of this seemingly unattainable goal. Is it possible????? I know it is. I go to my sister-in-laws house and everything is in perfect order, a place for it all, and their house is smaller than mine! How do they do it? I went shopping the other day and bought bins and baskets, hoping to reorganize our lives, and despite my efforts, there is just not enough space for everything. The sad truth is that the clothes that don't fit and the things we don't use, get bagged up and tossed in the basement. Accomplishing one thing and one thing alone... tidying my everyday space and leaving a disaster in my guest area. Perhaps the problem is not a matter of organization, but rather too many things. I could probably discard half of our belongings with no notice to us. Most of my clothes will never fit me again anyways, after two kids, I think the "size O" skirts and extra small shirts are out of the question. And yet still I am hard pressed to release my hold on these small rays of hope, that one day I may have my old body back. No, the reality is that I am a bit of a packrat, and now I am paying for this minor character flaw. I desire to be a person of cleanliness and organization and yet I relentlessy revert to my habitual behaviour. Where does my jacket go, or the diaper bag, or my shoes????? Wherever they manage to fall as I drop them on my way in the door. Sigh. One day, I hope to write a note about my ability to acheive this goal, but until then, I will concede to vent upon all my faithful listeners.

Motivational Motherhood

The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the morning is fresh and new, and here I sit. My son bounces in his jumperoo with enthusiasm and my daughter whines at being confined in her swing, while I pound away my many thoughts on this poor, unassuming computer. One of my greatest trials along this winding road of motherhood is finding the motivation to do things that need to be done, let alone things that I want to get done. The list is seemingly endless. My husband is starting to make comments regarding the cluttered state of our humble abode. And I am learning the hard way that if you do not stay on top of things, the task becomes overwhelming and is easier left undone. Pictures are piling up in a lonely corner, desperately longing to be compiled into some semblance of order. The keyboard sits forlone and forgotten, begging me to touch its keys once again. Caleb stares out the window, squealing at the world going by and looking at me with those big beautiful eyes as he signs, "aside?" And instead of taking a step, and plunging in... I take a shovel, and dig myself even deeper into this rut of indescisive longing. 'Oh, if only these things were done' I think to myself. Or better yet, where is the motivation that once consumed my being?

Perhaps it was sucked away by the demanding expectations of my small family. Or rather the lack of appreciation for my daily efforts to complete the menial tasks that now govern my life. All I seem to gain from feeding, changing, and bathing my two young children, is screaming demands for more. A part of me thrives, knowing that this is what I always wanted. And yet there is a part of me that is envious of my husband's skipping step as he goes to a workplace where he is acknowledged and appreciated for all he does. I know that this will pass, and I will most likely miss this small window of time in my life. And it is because of that that I wake up each morning, don a smile, and drink my energy inducing coffee, ready to face yet another day. And perhaps one day I will experience the "motivational motherhood" everyone else seems to possess in copious amounts. Until another day...