Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Our Lady of Perpetual Squalor

When I was in eighth grade I had a friend named Susie Bradshaw. We took drama class together. She was a lanky red-head with curly hair and freckles. A really sweet girl - I liked her a lot. Sometimes I would go over to her house to hang out. She had a brother I didn't really like much - he listened to the Beatles all the time; so I ended up not really ever digging the Beatles (sacrilege, I know.)

The thing I remember most about Susie's house was the mess. My mom's house was very orderly and organized (my mom's still is). I remember looking into her parent's kitchen and simply being shocked at the state - dishes piles up, crumbs and scraps on the counter, general messiness. A kind of disorganized shabbiness pervaded all over the entire household. I don't remember her parents at all, but I do remember the state of the house. This didn't affect the way I felt about Susie - I just remember being surprised that people lived that way.

Fast forward a couple of decades and I have to hang my head in shame and tell you that I'm truly not my mother's child. I must have secretly been descended from the Bradshaw line because that sure as heck is what my house looks like now. In a perpetual state of squalor.

Upon surveying my kitchen, my sister said she didn't know if I didn't have
enough space or if I simply wasn't using what I had to it's best advantage;
probably it's both and more.

I wasn't much of a housekeeper before I had kids. Boring. But I wasn't outnumbered then either, so it wasn't so bad. Now I just can't keep up. There are just piles everywhere. Of everything. Piles of clean laundry. Piles of dirty laundry. Piles of dishes. Piles of groceries needing to be put away. Piles of bills, papers and notices. Piles of books, workbooks, and school papers. Piles of art projects and momentos. The list goes on and on.

There is also just lots of stuff. Stuffed into all sorts of places. Closets. Drawers. Boxes. Shelves. God - the stuff. What is and where does it come from?

Then there's the dirt. The dust. The splatters of toothpaste on the mirror. The mold that invariable grows on the shower walls. The dog hair. The people hair. Ugh.

I know that there are books and sites by organization and housekeeping experts that can help with this problem. I've read some of them. They make good sense and I've even tried some of the ideas: Do things on certain days. Set up a routine. Don't let anything get in the way of that routine. But unfortunately real life gets in the way. Like holidays and birthdays. The whole family getting sick. Special home projects that end up taking the whole weekend (like getting rid of vermin under the house or fixing the vacuum cleaner) Or some other crises or event that just blows everything.

Maybe that's just an excuse. Maybe the truth is that really there is just too much damn stuff to do. Really, the workload in inhumane. Never ending. Certainly the results are not  permanent. No sooner has something like the laundry or dishes been completed than it has to be done again. Disheartening.

For me, the best solution is an event at my house that kicks my butt into gear. Like a guest or my mother coming over. This past week it was the bank appraiser as we are in the process of re-financing our house. This coincided with finally getting our carpet cleaned in the back of the house.

Part of the squalor that needs to be packed up moved to the bathroom

Now getting the carpet cleaned required moving everything out of the back room. There was a lot of ... stuff. Most of it fit into the back bathroom. That took most of a day to pack all the piles of books, papers and crap into boxes and then transport it to the bathroom. Of course, no one could use that bathroom any more - thank god we have two.

The bank appraiser appointment was the morning after the carpet cleaning. This was not a really good idea in retrospect. Our house was in such an overriding state of messiness and squalor that there was really no extra time for this carpet cleaning business and moving all the stuff in addition to needing to get the house into a reputable state. By messiness, I don't mean a few dishes in the sink or papers on the dining room table. I mean a serious level of squalor in every square inch of the house.

I remember listening to the news on the radio one time about some shocking situation regarding a family in trouble or some bad situation happening to some kids; and in the report, of course, it was mentioned with great emphasis about the shocking state of squalor witnessed in the house the kids were living in, etc, etc. You know what I'm talking about. Such a state of emotional and family dysfunction is proved by the state of the household. Sure hope no news reporter comes by my house unannounced and unexpected - I'd hate to hear what would be reported on the evening news.

Back to preparing for the appraiser. I spent over twenty straight hours of serious, intensive cleaning. A good portion of that was just clearing out the backlogged laundry and storage area which had wall to wall crap in there so I couldn't even get to the door. There was still the bag from the deceased dog's food in there. And a layer of dust at least a half inch thick. I had to wear a dust mask so I wouldn't get asthma. It looked awesome after I was done. If only it would stay that way.

I'll say though, that during this cleaning process I truly understood why my house doesn't look all sparkly all the time. That took so much energy and time. Um, I really don't have that type of energy or time to devote to cleaning like that each week so my home looks like those in the magazines. I was seriously depleted after that effort. Little bits of cleaning here and there - okay, we can manage that as a family. Superpower cleaning? Not worth it unless there's a major event.

The appraiser took all sorts of photos so I felt doubly happy that I put in the effort (that could have been rather embarrassing.) Of course, I didn't get all the boxes and stuff put away in that one bathroom because I simply ran out of time before he knocked on our door (the carpet needed to dry overnight) so the photo the guy took of that bathroom has all that crap in it. I saw it online. A little embarrassing but could have been a whole lot worse.

I would like to have a cleaner, more orderly house. I would love to live in a place like that - clean and orderly with matching furniture and actual curtains on the windows (right now there are still sheets on the bedroom windows - haven't had time time to find a solution to that yet.) An oasis of calm. A place of peace. Our little respite from the crazy, insane world out there.

Instead, it's more like we live in a barn. My husband used to really get my goat by telling me that we lived like drug addicts (we're not by the way, he just used to be a rock 'n' roller and knew some in his former life pre-me). He prefers a more zen-like environment and doesn't have much tolerance for the mess. I can deal with mess (I've never claimed to be Miss Clean) but this constant onslaught is a little overwhelming.

It be great if we could get a housekeeper to come once a week to help clean. That's my dream. Although, I think that even I were able to hire someone to help, they would either run as fast as their feet could take them away from our house, laugh in my face at the absurdity of such a proposition or just charge triple their rate. Probably not doable right now. Keeping a clean house takes either time or money (maybe both). And I guess that then prompts me to ask what are our family priorities?

We could spend money on a housekeeper but then not be able to give our girls the activities that they enjoy and that help them foster a strong sense of their selves. I could be running around scrubbing and cleaning every second - but I would probably be a very unpleasant person to live with. That would also put a crimp in the educating-the-girls-at-home plan;  I spend a lot of time with my daughters. Working together on their education takes time, energy and it's rather messy. I also spend a lot of time cooking - good, healthy food is important to me. Time for myself is also important - to exercise, to blog, to read, to teach. And we want to enjoy time together as a family. People before things.

So, I guess for the time being I will have to live as Our Lady of Perpetual Squalor.





Thursday, January 5, 2012

A Butter New Year!

 So, this year I am going to take a fresh approach. I don't do New Year's Resolutions - there's so much to put on that list that I've failed before I've even begun. However, I do like to have a theme for the New Year - a lens or a perspective through which I try to see events throughout the year. This year for me it's... butter


Let me explain.

One morning, I was going to make the family Puffy Cake for breakfast - this is our family favorite; it's a puffed-up oven-baked pancake and you need lots of butter for the skillet. I got everyone's hopes up only to find - you guessed it - no butter. Not a lick, nor a stick. Well, this really pissed me off, for not only was I now to dash my families hopes for a delicious breakfast, but this lack of butter represented something bigger. You know, when something acts as symbol for all that ails you at the moment - which for me was the utter futility and hopelessness of trying to maintain a household. Trying to maintain a household for me is akin to Sisyphus and his eternally falling rock.  So, menu changed - now it was hard-boiled eggs or oatmeal. Can't remember which, only that there wasn't any butter for the damn toast either. 

As I am stomping around the kitchen in a foul mood, I hardly noticed Daughter 2 busy with a whisk and bowl. She'd found a carton of cream in the refrigerator and was busy whipping it up - no, she was not making whipped cream. She was making - yup - butter! The girls sometimes like to make fresh butter out of whipping cream but we'd always made it with an air-tight jar (which takes a long time and a lot of literal elbow grease; I usually hate making it because I end up shaking the jar - for an annoyingly long time.) I have no idea what possessed my little one to try to make it with a whisk (she probably didn't want to ask me for a jar since I was not in the best of moods.) The whisk worked great and was actually faster than the jar method. Voila - butter! So we actually did get to have butter on our toast (too late for the Puffy Cake, sorry to say.) And now, whenever we make butter (which isn't often - don't want to give you the impression that I am Super-Susie-Homemaker or anything) we now use the whisk only - it's definitely faster and makes a wonderful butter.

So, here's what I would like to take from the butter incident into this New Year 2012: 
  • My children are my teachers: Sometimes life feels like one big to-do list and the kids are right there on it. This can make me down right grumpy. When I really contemplate my life, though, and what I have learned, my girls have been my greatest teachers. All I know now, I would not have learned without them. And they continue to bring new aspects of life into my orbit - like Daughter 1's love of horses and Daughter 2's love of tennis. Relationships in general are our great teachers. So this year, I am putting on my listening cap and being open to what I can learn from my children and from others around me.



  • Get creative and try something different: At the moment, I just went with the obvious - no butter, no Puffy cake. I wonder how often I do this in life - miss out because I just couldn't see another way or didn't even bother to try. Sometimes others show us a different way; sometimes we can find it ourselves. I have many things I need to find solutions for this year - I need to get creative and try a different approach. Maybe with a tool I'd never thought of before.



  • Mix it up and get physical: Hey, put in a little elbow grease and there is a total transformation; what started out as weak cream became fluffy whipped cream and then firm butter. Hey, if that can happen with a whisk, then maybe a little physical action on my part will lead to a leaner and firmer me. Don't need fancy tools either - just a whisk, or maybe a whip, or really just some walking shoes. 



  • It'll all come together:  When I know what I want to do and have an intention and then commit, somehow it all comes together. A good, clear goal benefits everyone - there'll be butter and buttermilk. A little something for everyone. Trust the process.



  • Take some time to rinse off and rest: I need to remember to take care of myself this year (this is my single biggest challenge.) A shower or relaxing bath can do wonders to restore my mental balance (you may be wondering what the heck this has to do with butter; indeed, you do need to rinse off all the buttermilk and drain the liquids off the butter before packing it into a container.) And I need to pack myself into bed in a timely manner before I melt (gee, this kind of fun!)




  • Savor the sweet moments: Fresh, homemade butter tastes so sweet and good. I feel so grateful for its simple goodness and for the abundance that it represents. Each day I want to express gratitude for those sweet moments, situations and relationships that exist in my life. If my daughter's homemade butter can transform my attitude of grumpiness to sheer delight, then finding the good in each day can surely transform the everyday doldrums to an attitude of gratitude for that which I have in my life.




I am hoping that you can bring some of the sweetness and goodness of our butter moment into your life this year. Or maybe, you have your own butter moment that will lend its own unique perspective to your year. Feel free to share.

However it dishes out, I wish you a sweet New Year full of wonderful delights! Happy New Year...

Warmly, Susan