Hello!
I have a
teensy tiny confession to make. This week, from out of the clear blue yonder,
someone (a.k.a. my sister) “dropped in” on me. Now, you must try to understand…
for Todd and me, and the way we “keep house,” dropping in is not our best or
most favorable option. When my doorbell rings, I freeze, imagining every
horrific scenario. It’s such a blasted conflict of interest too, because I
really do enjoy visitors – and I really do enjoy my sister. I guess I
just really really (really) need a
heads-up – 24 hours is preferable, but even 30 minutes can get me a quick fix.
Here’s the real deal, okay? (Take a
deep breath here.) Todd and I are both a bit (for lack of a better word, I’ll create one…)
“Pack Ratty.” It’s true. It’s not like they’re going to film a reality TV show
about us or anything (at least not yet…);
but we really do have a lot of “stuff’” and our “stuff” may or may not be absolutely necessary to our day-to-day living. If you are unsure about your
own state of “Pack-Ratty-ness,” allow me to provide you with a few examples, so
that you can compare:
When the kids lived here, we’d/I’d
say things like, “Oh my gosh you guys, your rooms look terrible!” (The word
“sty” may have even been used a time or two). Sometimes I’d make them a deal –
usually at the beginning of summer vacation. “Tell you what – if you clean your
rooms really well, I’ll buy you each
one CD of your choice.” Each child, feeling encouraged by my offer, went to the
kitchen cabinet and withdrew a big, black Hefty bag. They knew that along with
the actual dusting and vacuuming associated with cleaning, also came the “let’s
take a load of old clothes and toys to Goodwill.” The children would put on
music and get down to work.
I’d feel pretty good about myself.
Here it was, mid-June, and I had the kids motivated to clean, plus they even
“whistled while they worked.” I’d throw in a load of laundry, make a shopping
list, and then meander down the hall to glance into their rooms, just to see
how things were going. BIG mistake, BIG!
I’d see a stack of items on my
daughter’s bed and I’d point. “What are you doing with those?”
“That’s the start of my Goodwill
pile,” she so innocently admitted.
“What? You can’t get rid of this!
(I’d hold up a sweater that was probably borderline too small on her.) I love this sweater on you! Remember the
time you wore it with…?” And so on, and so forth, I’d give examples of how and
why she couldn’t possibly get rid of
whatever item was on the chopping block. Finally, she’d relent, and hang the
sweater back in her closet. I hate to admit this, but these types of
conversations took place until the day she got married and moved out. I do not
believe that she is “Pack-Ratty” in her own home, like her dad and me. Time
will certainly tell...
It was surprising to me to find out
that not all people act the way that
we act. Who knew? Some people actually enjoy
getting rid of clothing that doesn’t fit, and actually enjoy donating their kids’ old toys to people who’ll use them. For
example, not everyone holds onto a high chair in their basement for twenty
years because some day their
five-year-old might have a child and bring that
child over for dinner, and what will
that child sit on then if we get
rid of the high chair today? Note: The high chair is now yellow and is
heading to the dump this weekend because no child (grand or otherwise) would
ever safely sit on it again. Did we learn
our lesson? Hmmm…
We’ve actually had some sane adult
family members and friends who’ve offered to go into certain rooms in our home and
dispose of items for us. Oh, the
horror, oh, the trauma… “Absolutely not!” We exclaim. “We’ll be going into that
room soon – very soon, and making the tough decisions for ourselves.” The sane ones nod as though
they understand, but… I’m not really sure
that they do.
And just so that we’re clear – it’s
not just me! Todd’s lower level, his
section of the basement, is – well – let’s just say that it’s full.
Every so often, on a rainy weekend, he’ll say, “I’m going into my workroom and
I’m going to organize. If I’m not out in two hours, throw me a lifeline.”
“Okay, Honey, you do that,” I say.
I’m not sure of any real dent he’s ever made in the clutter, but I know
that he loves to be in that room.
On rainy days, many women like to
clean. I do not. Rainy days are made for many things, but I’m afraid that cleaning is not one of them. Okay,
obviously I’m kidding (a little bit anyway). The house isn’t that bad, but I do enjoy just about any
other activity more than housework.
One thing is true though – once
you’ve been caught – once that doorbell rings and it’s not the FedEx man – once
that porch person says, “Suuure, I’ve got an extra half hour and I’d love to come in for a Diet Pepsi” –
you’re totally busted, my friend. It makes you stop and re-evaluate your time
management skills. It makes you want to drag out the broom, the mop and the
409, the vacuum and the webster/duster thing, and get down to business.
But it’s a funny thing – just as
soon as she left that day, my phone rang. It was my daughter. The sweet sound
of her far-away voice said, “Hi Mama Llama, how are you today?” and all
thoughts of grime removal washed permanently from my brain.”
“Hi Hon, I’m good – how are you?
How’s the baby?” … And an hour later, scouring the bathroom was the furthest
subject from my mind.
I’ve never had a particularly
immaculately clean home – that is true. But I do
like to think that I’ve always taken time out for the people and activities
that matter the most to me: My husband, my
kids, pets, church activities, writing, reading books (or anything else), going
to movies, watching TV, meeting friends for coffee, talking on the phone, going
for walks… ;) I think you catch my drift…
Have a wonderful day!
Katie Kolberg Memmel is the author of “Five Fingers, Ten Toes – a
Mother’s Story of Raising a Child Born with a Limb Difference. For more
information, visit her website at www.katiekolbergmemmel.com
