#dirtypics: the car edition

When we last met to discuss our [#]dirtypics  , I can't believe I failed to mention the space that quickly becomes the dirtiest of all: our van. And when you all shared your dirty pictures with me, no one shared their car! So am I alone in this? I hope not. I think not. 

I once had a friend come visit with her two children. When they arrived after their several hour car journey, their kids came tumbling out of the back of their van with stuff literally stuck to them. There were so many snacks crunched into the floorboards I didn't know if I should laugh, avert my eyes, or start munching. The dad said he once judged one of his friends pretty badly when he saw the inside of his vehicle. One or two kids should not cause that, he condemned in silence. But as his own children shook off their debris, he laughed as he shared this story with us, shaking his head at his own ignorance. 

Here's the deal with the car: it gets you from here to there, and while going from here to there the kids are strapped in to a 5-point harness and can hardly move. Which means they are limited for entertainment. Which means you keep chucking toys back at them, and when that fails you dig into the snacks. And when they start throwing their Cheerios for entertainment purposes, you let them because they are being quiet. Parenting while driving-- we decided it was worse than texting. [But don't text while you're driving.] 

So all of the above happens, and you get to your destination, or your home, and all you want to do is get out of the vehicle. So you leave the remains. And the three pairs of shoes your three year old has taken off on three separate trips. And the books. And the toys. And the spare diapers. And I am just going to pretend that sippy cup that I know rolled under the driver's seat is gone forever because I don't want to imagine what it will smell like if I open it. 

I was thinking about all of this, and our need to be open and share our realities more. I won't lie, this is not THAT bad for my van. Nothing sticky was happening and the backseat was surprisingly calm. But here is a peek at the front and the back: 

Let me break this down for you.

The front seat:
/ A box of diapers. Obviously.
/ Goodnight Moon. Because I need an option to throw back at the girls at any given moment.
/ My purse… and oh my goodness that should probably be my next [#]dirtypics post. Yikes.
/ Hand sanitizer, for those emergency "I HAVE TO GO POTTY!" right now moments on the highway.
/ A giant cup from McDonalds. This is unusual for our van. I won't lie. But I snapped this on the day of our anniversary, and we celebrated after church my going to McDonalds and a park. We're so fancy, you guys.
/ Crunch candybar wrapper. That was all me.
/ Stickers from church nursery. Does your church have these? And if so are they EVERYWHERE in your house? When a number flashes on the screen at church are you panicking because you currently have 5 numbers stashed in your bible and 12 in your purse and you have NO IDEA if that number is yours because you have 17 to sort through?!
/ Sunglasses. Which will break in the next week. [True story.]
/ Two bottles of partially empty water.
/ A church bulletin.
/ And, if you look very closely, you will see that under the tray is a dirty diaper. Does that mean I win and you all can stop now?

Moving on to the back seat which, like I said, is relatively calm and clean:

Okay. Actually this is too calm. Some random toys and books, a snack container, and crumbs. I'm patting myself on the back. Nothing looks stained either, so bonus points.

But seriously, I get stressed out when the van is messy and I try. But after one day it looks like I haven't touched it in months. And during softball season when I'm driving out to the ball field everyday and hauling things? Forget it. I think Newton needs a new law: What goes up must land in your van. 

The girls don't seem to mind though. They actually find it quite peaceful, apparently.

Your turn! Email me or post to my facebook. I can't wait!

the details

Remember when I used to blog every day? Sigh. Moving on.

There is something you should know about me:
When I was a little girl I hated to clean my room, the bathroom, the living room, the stairs...okay. I hated to clean anything. This is probably true of most children. Yet my mom was persistent and I at least learned how to do the job well, even if I didn't like it. My parents were more lenient on my room [which I wrote a little about here], but every so often I'd get the edict to clean it.

I'm sure my mom was always afraid I would become like the girl that Ross dated on an episode of Friends once. You know, The One With the Dirty Girl? Ross is trying to explain to Joey how dirty this girl's apartment is and says, "You know how you throw your jacket on a chair at the end of the day? Well, like that, only that instead of a chair it's a pile of garbage. And instead of a jacket it's a pile of garbage. And instead of the end of the day it's the end of time, and garbage is all that has survived."

To everyone's surprise though, I've actually become quite the opposite. I like to keep things clean. Truth be told, I even enjoy the therapy of cleaning [I still hate dusting]. But more than that, I like organization: a place for everything and everything in its place. Am I the best at it? By all means no. If I had money to blow though, you better believe I would shop everyday at thecontainerstore.com.

It's just this: towards the end of college, though I was still sleeping with a pile of clothes at the end of my bed, I realized that everyday life was just easier and more enjoyable if I kept things semi-organized. I.E. if I knew where my folder of essays was and didn't have to dig through the coffee cabinet to find them in the five minutes I allowed myself to get ready before heading to class [time management? That's another post for another day… :/] .

When we moved into our house, I knew I wanted to keep things simple and organized. But here is the kicker: we went and had two babies and a system that worked for two adults, just didn't cut it for two kids [and all their crap necessities]. It's been a work in progress, but I feel like I've finally nailed down some "systems" that work for us.

// purge, purge, purge. I routinely get rid of stuff. I try to touch everything in every closet twice a year, which typically results in donating and throwing away a large amount and therefore freeing up space we need, or just freeing up space and helping me breathe a little easier. When there is an extra shelf open in your closet, it just makes you feel better, right? [Is there something wrong with me?]

//contain, contain, contain. I wrote a post awhile ago when I organized my kitchen again. I talked a lot about the need for containers…AND how those containers don't have to designated for JUST ONE PURPOSE. I think a lot of people get overwhelmed with organization because they think they have to have a spice rack for spices, a magazine rack for magazines etc. etc. etc. [Right, Kali?] But really, you just need a container that fits your needs. I have baskets of all shapes and sizes all over my house for a variety of purposes. The key is: they each have a purpose. I only have one that is used as a catch all. When everyone in the family knows that basket's purpose, it's easy to keep the right things in it [and to know where to find them the next time you need them!] Some examples of containers in our house:

\I have two small baskets outside the girls rooms in the hallway. When they are napping or sleeping and I find something that belongs in their room, I put it in their basket. When they are awake, I can easily transfer things from their baskets to their rooms. 

\ I have a basket on the bathroom sink that holds lotion and washcloths and medicine we use frequently. I know if I didn't have this spot then that stuff would just get left all over the counter or thrown in a random drawer. 

a terrible iphone picture of my bathroom. 

\ I have a basket in the living room for Becks and Blythe's books. Otherwise they would get dragged into the living room and find a place somewhere they didn't belong, never to be returned to a bookshelf. 

//pictures and labels. I needed to make things simple enough that a two year old could do it. On all of the baskets that contain Blythe's toys, there are pictures and labels of what goes there. It took about a day of insisting she put things where their picture was…now it's just second nature to her. 

Nothing fancy, but labeled so Blythe can do it

And that's about it. We have found if there is a place for something, we tend to put it there. Of course, every few months there are certain baskets I have to go through [like the bathroom one, or our mail/bills one], but usually they stay pretty organized as is. Also, when it comes to Blythe's toys, I find that organizing them by type not only helps her, but it makes it easy to see when there is too much of something. Before I sorted things this way, I thought she needed more "cookware" and utensils, but now I can see she has a basket full, and that is more than enough. [This is the hardest thing for Blythe to sort and keep organized on her own: plates and pans and forks etc are in one basket, and her food is in a different one. She's catching on though.] 

Beyond organizing things though, it's important to me to keep things picked up and cleaned also. Here is my basic schedule I try and stick to:

Everyday:

Pick up

Clean Kitchen

* I load/unload dishwasher, wash dishes on counter, and wipe up all the counters and table. 

Monday: 

Bathrooms

Meal planning 

*A lot of times I touch up bathrooms throughout week, but every Monday I try and deep clean them. 

*I usually meal plan for two or three weeks in advance, so usually this is an every other week item. [This is also something that, if you ask Brent, has been on the back burner since baby #2 until recently. Whew. Took me a bit to get back on this saddle. ]

Tuesday:

Laundry

Clean up Mudroom

*I TRYtryTRY to wash AND fold AND put away on this day, but I loathe folding laundry so much that this often gets pushed back. 

Wednesday:

Floors

Empty all trashcans 

*I sweep the kitchen and mudroom [mop every other week], and vacuum other rooms. [I sweep around Blythe's spot daily… I should get a dog. And I often vacuum more often because I enjoy it.] 

Thursday:

Dusting

*I hate dusting. That is why I leave it as the only thing for this day, thinking I'll actually get it done. 

Friday: 

Bedrooms

Budget/Balance Checkbook

Saturday & Sunday:

What needs it

Projects

*I try to leave the weekends open to spend time with Brent or work on bigger projects I don't get to during the week

Usually one day I clean out our van too or it just implodes on itself [does anyone else have this problem?]. 

Why do I create a schedule and think organization is important?

Because I think there is freedom in boundaries. I was explaining to Brent the other day that I was so much more relaxed now that I was back on track with my cleaning schedule after softball. If I don't stick to a schedule, I jump from place to place and never fully clean anything and perpetually feel like there is something that has to be done. It stresses me out. The schedule gives me freedom because I know that if I have dusted today, that's all I have to do. I shouldn't feel like I need to clean the bathroom too. I don't need to throw in a load of laundry. Everything has its time.

I wrote in this post that I'm reading "The Shaping of a Christian Family" by Elisabeth Elliot. There is a chapter titled "A Habit of Order." She talks about how, growing up, her home was orderly and how she took for granted "the sense of things being placed." She went on to say "Our little world could be counted on to stay the way it was, safe, structured, and pretty much the same every day." To Elliot, an ordered home meant "not only acceptance of God's arrangement of authority,… but also making sure that there [was] a place for everything. If there [wasn't], it probably [meant] there [were] too many things."

This view of "uncluttered efficiency" struck me, because it wasn't something I had ever really put words to, but once I read her description I thought, Yes! That's it! 

And so, if I come over to your house and you don't live like me, that's totally fine. Seriously. It is. I love you and your dirty microwave. However, for me there is freedom in the schedule and less confusion in the sense of things being placed. So I will cling to my label makers and storage containers; I will cling to my uncluttered efficiency.

another confession

Okay. I have something I feel like I need to come clean with:

I absolutely love to vacuum.

google images

Judge away. But seriously, it's the best. I love just about everything about it. I think, in large part, it has to do with my vacuum-- a sweet Dyson-- which I still love as much as when I first got it and wrote this post.  I was actually vacuuming the other day and thought, "How long have I had this vacuum?" And I remembered that I had purchased it in the spring of 2011. That is how much it has changed my life: I remember the exact timing of my purchase!

Before I bought our Dyson, I always had the mindset that fancy pants vacuums weren't all they are cracked up to be… but I am singing a different tune now, I suppose.

So why do I love vacuuming? Besides the fact that I have an awesome vacuum that does exactly what it's supposed to do?

-I love the monotony of it. I don't have to think about it, I just have to keep pushing it. I can let my mind wander. It's a very methodical thing that requires no method.

-I love the smell of it. I don't know about you, but I think vacuums have a smell. It is probably the smell of dirt and dust, which we all know is really dead skin [we all know that, right? I'm not breaking any new, disgusting ground for you, am I?], but there is something about it. I think this has something to do with my childhood and the power of scent: we always kept our vacuum [a very heavy KIRBY] in a little coat closet in our entryway. This coat closet was awesome, It had a tiny little window. And tons of stuff to hide behind while playing hide and seek. And it always smelled like the vacuum. And I loved it. [You won't have to ask people who know me too many questions to learn that I have a weird sense of smell, so if you go sniff your vacuum and are repulsed, I apologize.]

- I love that it takes a fairly small amount of time, but leaves me feeling like I've accomplished something and that the house is much cleaner. If I only have 15 minutes, I can easily bust out the vacuum and clean the living room, dining room, entryway, and hallway. Probably 10 minutes. Boom. Done. Clean. Beautiful.

- I love that in order to vacuum, I have to pick up the floor a bit. I'm not a huge fan of crap laying everywhere. Who is? And since I vacuum frequently, it helps me keep things off the floor. [I vacuum frequently. Probably too frequently. I read once that too much vacuuming isn't great for your carpets…but I ignore that warning. And I vacuum, sometimes 4 times a week. It's a sickness, really.]

- I love that vacuuming allows me to be okay with Blythe making messes. Or people wearing shoes into our house [remember this?]. Honestly, if someone tracks in some leave or Blythe drops a cheerio or two and it gets stepped on, I'm secretly excited I get to bust out the vacuum again.

- I love that when I finish, it always looks like I've cleaned something. There are certain cleaning jobs that make me feel better because I know something is cleaned, but vacuuming leaves those neat little lines in places and you can just tell when a carpet has been freshly cleaned.

- I love emptying out the canister when I'm done and seeing my accomplishments. This goes with the last one. I always make sure when I start a new vacuuming job that my canister is empty. That way, when I finish, I can look and see just how much dirt I picked up! It's a fun reward, no?

Now that you all think I have totally lost my mind, I will leave you with this:
I dream of one day owning either of these two pieces of bad boy cleaning machinery!

One of Dyson's sweet hand held cleaners. Dude. This would change high chair and car seat cleanings, no doubt, but would also probably inspire me to vacuum my baseboards and my couch cush and clean out my car. And WHO KNOWS what else??! Nothing would be safe.

The other product that would revolutionize my life?
One of Dyson's newest products. It's a vacuum, but look at how tiny and sleek and light this thing is? Oh and did I mention there is no cord? This could be busted out quickly for a small job I need, or I could keep it propped up in my kitchen corner to do a quick one-over under the table after meals [did I mention these vacuums can be switched from carpet to hard surface with the click of a button? Cause they totally can]. My aunt just got one of these and it's awesome.

all google images-- and this is Dyson the man. 

And there you have it. I love to vacuum. My secret is out. And I would rather have new cleaning products than diamonds? What is wrong with me?

Also, I feel like I should clarify that I am not being paid to endorse Dyson. I just love my vacuum that much.

containers! organization! spices! lids! sanity!

Once upon a time we bought a house and painted the kitchen cabinets TURQUOISE.

I have yet to regret that decision. 

Actually, it may be one decision I regret the least. 

However, inside of those beautiful turquoise cabinets was a mess. 

A MESS!

 As I accumulated bottles and cups and such for Blythe, I just sort of threw them in here. Yikes. So I started emptying everything.

It is at this point that it is easy to panic. Your countertops are full of things you haven't seen in ages, and it somehow cripples you with a fear that you will never know how to put things back or what things to throw away. Am I right?

But it is at this point you must press on.

I didn't have a budget for this organization day…meaning I scrounged around my house for any empty container I could find. I located a few baskets here and there and if I couldn't contain it it got pitched.

I have found that that is the key-- contain, contain, contain. It is so much easier to organize and STAY organized when you can easily grab a basket and get what you need, instead of standing on a chair and craning into the back recesses of a dark cabinet.

I put all my coffee goods in one basket, and other drink mixes and teas in another.

I got rid of old plastic cups we no longer needed, and found small baskets to keep lids to water jugs and thermoses handy.

 Granted, I have a lot of cabinet space in my kitchen, but once I was organized and purged I had an entire cabinet free! Woo hoo!

Then it was time to hit up my spice drawer and my cooking utensil drawer.

I didn't take a before picture of the utensil drawer for some reason, but just picture utter and complete chaos, the kind that requires you to hold your breath and stand on one leg just right in order to wiggle the drawer shut. [However, I will admit that I felt better when my friend, who is a nurse, told me she found a syringe in her kitchen drawer. Which begs the question: what is the weirdest thing you've found in one of your kitchen drawers? Not the junk drawer, but an actual kitchen drawer. I'll report the winner here later :)… the winner being the weirdest, obviously.]

I again rummaged through what I had and located several smaller baskets.  I tried to separate the utensils into groups that made sense to me.

Then I tackled that crazy spice drawer. Yikes. 

It was bad, you guys. 

The first thing I did was lay everything out on the counter. There were some spices I had three or four jars of, all at varying levels of used-up-ness. 

Then I threw out anything that I knew I had had since we were first married. Five years is probably a decent amount of time for the life of a spice [not to be confused with the spice of life…]. Then I combined half used jars of the same spice, kept a few reserves of the ones I use a lot, and then pedaled off the rest to other unsuspecting spice drawers in other homes. 

Then it was time to arrange. I had a few different containers I wanted to use, and arranged things according to size and frequent use. 

[By the way, I still have all the jars that were pre-labeled and given to me, filled with spices no less, from my Aunt Wanda as a wedding gift. It was an amazing gift, and as I organized this drawer…it kept on giving!] 

It's amazing what this drawer alone has done for my sanity. 

I'm over here throwing spices into dishes left and right now, just because they are easy to get to: "Cumin? Bring it on! Parsley? Why not? Garlic Salt? Of course!" 

[And now none of you want to sample any of my dishes :)] 

before and after.
whew. 

I am happy to report that I actually did all of this back in June, and if I went and took a picture of each drawer and cabinet again, they look essentially identical to these pictures. It really is amazing what a little attention, some containers, and organization can do to your sanity and your space. 

Do you have any great "systems" that you use in your kitchen area? You should probably share with all of us. And if your answer is, "My cooking lady puts everything back neatly when she finishes up with the dishes," then we don't want to hear from you. :) 

a conversation, round ii

I've come to this blog to document a conversation between my husband and I before [see HERE for the true story of Whoppers]. Hopefully after reading this you'll understand why he seriously makes me laugh all.the.live.long.day.

Recently Brent put in a new shower in our bathroom in the mudroom. Yes. He put in a new shower, so this post will prove he is not only FUNNY, but also HANDY. Double bonus for this lady right here. Anyway, because it is a small shower, we were very limited on options and we had to get one that has clear glass, not  the speckled/variegated/flecked [you know what I'm trying to say] glass like I wanted. I didn't want the clear glass cause it gets all spotty from the water [yes, even though I don't care if my bed sheets look like THIS, I don't like spotty shower doors…double standard?].

Okay, so our shower door gets spotty, I mention the fact that I should get one of those squeegee things that cleans it…

Brent: No, we don't need one of those. Why don't we just treat it with Rain-X like you do on the car windshield? The water would just roll right off then.

Kels: That's actually not a bad idea! Wait…. did you see that on Pinterest or something? Are you a closet Pinterest-er?

Brent: Pshhh. Who needs Pinterest? I came up with that on my own! I'm gonna start my own pin board that's like the anti-Pinterest where you DON'T share your secrets.

Kels: huh?

Brent: Yeah. Like I'll pin something like:
"Just made a new recipe that would BLOW YOUR MIND…oh, but you can't have it!" 
… Or "I got Sharpie out of my sweatshirt! Bet you can't do that, Sucka!" 
… "I turned my sunburn into a tan in TWO HOURS with ONE INGREDIENT!! But I'm not sayin' a word." 

I could tell his wheels were still turning, but I was laughing so hard at this point that I think he figured he'd stop while he was ahead. This proved that he actually does understand Pinterest enough to make fun of it, though.

We may have to try this Rain-X thing though, and apparently if it works I cannot put it on Pinterest.

source

cleaning schedule

I've had some new-stay-at-home friends ask me about establishing a routine. I remember the first little while, when I finally didn't feel like I needed to sleep while Blythe did, and after everything returned to "normal" and we had to figure out what exactly that meant for us now. I remember feeling overwhelmed with my time at first: I had all this "free time" but felt guilty if I spent it reading a book or working on a project I wanted to work on. I felt like I needed to be productive all the time since this was my new job.

But then I realized that this was the beauty of being home: I DID have more time on my hands and I COULD accomplish more, but I could ALSO do some things I wanted to do, or take Blythe for a walk, or WHATEVER. My schedule was flexible. This was still overwhelming to me though, and I felt like there was always something that needed to be done. Though this is essentially always true, I figured if I created a little schedule of tasks it would help me organize my time best.

I thought about everything around the house that needs to be done on a fairly consistent basis and created my list from there. I tried to keep the daily tasks realistic, most of which can be accomplished in half an hour or less. I adjust it from time to time, but here is what I work from right now:

Everyday:

Pick up

Clean Kitchen

*I try and keep things picked up everyday, so when Blythe goes down for nap I do a quick swoop through the house and put things where they belong be it toys, sunglasses, cups, shoes etc. 

*I can't stand a gross kitchen. So usually while B is eating breakfast, or after she goes to bed at night, I load/unload dishwasher, wash dishes on counter, and wipe up all the counters and table. 

Monday: 

Bathrooms

Meal planning 

*A lot of times I touch up bathrooms throughout week, but every Monday I try and deep clean them. 

*I usually meal plan for two or three weeks in advance, so usually this is an every other week item. 

Tuesday:

Laundry

*I TRYtryTRY to wash AND FOLD on this day, but I loathe folding laundry so much that this often gets pushed back. If I keep up with it though, I don't have as much to fold and getting it out of the way in one day is nice. But this week, I failed so there is a large basket waiting to be folded today.

Wednesday:

Floors

*I sweep the kitchen and mudroom [mop every other week], and vacuum other rooms. Quite often I only vacuum the bedrooms every other week. I know some people vacuum a lot more frequently, but this works for us usually. Sometimes I have to vacuum over the weekend too, but I actually enjoy vacuuming [remember THIS] so that's okay. Also now that B is eating more "real" food, there tend to be more crumbs, so I sweep around her area daily. 

Thursday:

Dusting

*Let's just say that today was the first day I actually dusted in a few weeks. I hate dusting. That is why I leave it as the only thing for this day, thinking I'll actually get it done. It doesn't really work. :) 

Friday: 

Bedrooms

Budget/Balance Checkbook

*I pick up and clean in the bedrooms this day. Hang up clothes that have found their way to the floor, straighten shoes in closet, straighten up Blythe's toys etc. 

*I try and look at our finances once a week, as this helps us stay on track. Often times this is flip flopped with meal planning, as I'm going to go grocery shopping over the weekend so I meal plan on Friday and then budget things on Mondays. It's FLEXIBLE, see?

Saturday & Sunday:

What needs it

Projects

*I try to leave the weekends open to spend time with Brent or work on bigger projects I don't get to during the week

And that is it! Like I said I try to keep it pretty simple so that it is realistic. My general rule for myself is that I do the chore first, and if I get it done then I'm "allowed" to blog or read or work on something else. Obviously I stray from it from time to time, but it has helped me tremendously and I don't feel overwhelmed with what needs to be done all the time, because nothing ever has the chance to get too out of hand [except the dusting…that's typically out of hand ;)]. I don't feel guilty for taking a break either, because I've accomplished something [besides taking care of Blythe…but thats another post entirely!]. 

Hope this helps some of you that have asked! 

my closets speak to me

I told you recently I was cleaning all the closets in my house. I clean my bedroom closet every year. I clean out my closets and have some sort of revelation. Last year it was THIS. 

This year as I rummaged through my clothing and got rid of even more shoes, I had this weird moment. In that moment I held skirts in one hand, dress pants in another. And in that moment I thought, "When did I get my 'big girl' wardrobe?"

In college I literally lived in tshirts. Everyday I wore a tshirt. Everyday. On Sundays I had about three items to choose from, but would usually roam the dorm or my roommate's closet until I found something I wanted to wear to church. Otherwise- tshirts. 

I mean, college is a time to be comfy. You can't learn everything you need to learn and write every paper you need to write unless you can wear sweats and tshirts at all times. 

And you can't participate in a slime fight without a good tshirt. 

And you won't have enough tshirts to cut up to make sweet 80s clothes for airband [which you will WIN], if you don't have a million to choose from. 

When I made the homecoming court my senior year, I flipped out a little bit because I knew I didn't have a cute dress-- so I borrowed one from a girl I sort of kind of knew, and even had to borrow a necklace from another girl. My roommate was wise and was just chilling in her tshirt. 

All that to say-- I did not have a professional wardrobe when Brent and I first got married and moved to Louisville. I took a job at a great school and proceeded to panic. I had one good "interview outfit," a couple of slacks, and some frumpy sweaters. I had no paycheck yet. What was a girl to do? 

I thought I would never build up a "big girl" closet. 

And now, here I am five years later. Somehow, little by little, my tshirts have made their way to the trash or donation piles, and in their places I have button up shirts and skirts and cardigans and… It's a bit crazy, to be quite honest. 

Two and a half years ago when we moved, and I switched schools, I didn't have to worry because I knew I could look the part of a put together teacher (now acting the part? That's another story all together). When graduation rolled around (and Paige graduated), I busted out this outfit, thinking it totally normal that I had a high waisted, belted pencil skirt and ruffled top. Totally normal. 

However, as I sorted through skirts of all varieties yesterday, I realized that I've grown too. Somewhere between the slime fights and my classroom I became the woman that can wear pencil skirts. 

Don't worry though- I still could rock jean day Friday like no one's business! 

**This post reminded me of THIS POST I wrote a few years back about growing up. 

discovery

I have been on a kick lately. 

That kick is called: CLEAN THE CLOSETS IN MY HOUSE. No closet is safe. I have two left to tackle.

And to be honest I am quite looking forward to it. 

WHAAAA? 

Yeah, you heard me. 

Projects like this always take more time than they should because I become ENTRANCED in my junk. Entranced, people. 

I make discovery after discovery. 

Yesterday while cleaning a hallway closet I discovered what appeared to be a scrap of paper. It had scribbles all over it and I could barely decipher my own writing. After inspecting it closer I remembered that I had written on this particular piece of paper while sitting in on one of Brent's college classes. One year we decided that we wanted to do that- see what the other experienced in class- and arranged visits and checked with professors accordingly. 

In the top left I had scribbled a note to Brent: "he sounds like Gpa Schoon!"

Underneath I had signed my name with my soon to be new last name over and over and over, perfecting its loops and swirls. 

Under that another quick jot to Brent: "my womb loves you" Interesting. 

And then, as many a scribbly note book page of mine became, it turned into poems. The first a short one, starting with a line I had heard over and over again in writing classes of mine:

"Write what you know"

& I write about the field of grass between my toes

& you touching my face that way

& children laughing & babies sleeping

& I write about being tired

& being fully alive

& the way the rain falls in Missouri

& I write about family

& teaching Shakespeare to freshman

& singing off key LOUDLY

& I write about writing

"Write what you know"

& you'll never run out 

And then a jagged line juts through the page, as if all of a sudden I had a new idea. 

I turned the page over and found more treasures on the back; treasures of this day I sat in Brent's class and wrote with a blue ink pen. 

Another note to Brent: "I hate when ppl ask questions just so they sound like they know what they're talking about." 

And then I'm guessing he gave me a look, a  now famous look , of his.  

Because just beneath that I wrote: "I do it." 

Beneath this I must have gleaned a nugget from the professor because I wrote "WHEN YOU MATCH NEEDS WITH ABILITIES, IT'S A MINISTRY." I boxed it in, three lines thick. Remember this, I must have thought. 

And then I was off again, another poem emerging from my pen. In half cursive, half print I wrote:

Teaching Shakespeare to Freshman

kids in a classroom

eyes hungry, and tired

listening absently

they want more than 

Romeo and Juliet's words

they want to experience

"lips doing what hands do"

and they want to feel

the poison on their lips

"oh give me my sin again"

they misbehave because they don't understand

the significance of Lord Capulet disowning his daughter

they misbehave because they don't understand

the reason their father disowned them

"a rose by any other name

would smell as sweet"

and the girls think it's romantic

and the boys have checked out

Juliet is a "house bought but not yet owned"

and there are no snickers

so it's obvious they don't understand

or their puberty could not refrain from laughing

how do I reach them?

how do I touch them with 

timeless words?

how do I show them meaning 

in the midst of real tragedy?

tragedy, comedy, history

they see this everyday

and they scream from their desks

"let the show begin!"

their "poverty consents

but not their will"

and I pay their poverty

and I do't know if I've hit a nerve

but I hope they see beauty here

if no where else

and as they taste the words

of a play from then

that they taste life

now

In the top right on the back of the page, as an after thought I'm sure, or out of force of habit, I wrote: 

4.15.08

I doubt I thought I'd come back to it four and a half years later, while crouched on the floor of my hallway, covered in the dust of my memories. 

what i don't do

When I was in college I was able to babysit for a wonderful little family of three: Eric, Carrie, and their son, Nathan. I knew them because Eric was my boss' boss [he was the guru of student life on campus while I was an RA]. Since I graduated and left that little corner of the world, they have added two daughters to their ranks, and Nathan is now in KINDERGARTEN! It's hard to believe. I always respected them as a couple, and as individuals, and was so happy when I discovered that Carrie was an avid blogger! We have been able to keep in touch, and she is another reason I am thankful for the invention of blogs. It is funny to think that I am now entering the same stage of life that they were in when I first met them. Carrie is a wonderful writer, a phenomenal stay at home mom and wife, and an inspiring believer.

Recently she posted a blog about things she doesn't do: HERE. I thought it was a fun list and, like she said, provides an often much needed "bigger picture" perspective to remind us no one can DO IT ALL.

Here is my list, which is by no means comprehensive:

I don't watch the news.
I don't buy organic.
I don't follow recipes closely.
I don't own a scale.
I don't work out.
I don't take vitamins.
I don't iron.
I don't paint my nails.
I don't go to the library [mainly because we don't have a good one near :(]
I don't Twitter.
I don't sew.
I don't subscribe to a newspaper of any sort.
I don't make my own cleaning products.
I don't always rinse Blythe's pacifiers that fall on the ground.
I don't wax my eyebrows.
I don't fold laundry frequently. [Brent is a great help here or it may never get done! Yikes!]
I don't organize my underwear/sock drawer…it's chaotic in there!
I don't clean my coffee pot regularly.
I don't keep a stocked pantry.

I could write more but will stop there.

What would your list look like? Do any of you do/not do things on my list? 

open letter number 5: oxi-clean

Open letter number 4: HOTELS
Open letter number 3: LAUNDRY
Open letter number 2: STUDENT LOANS
Open letter number 1: DRAWER UNDER MY OVEN

Dear OxiClean,

Umm, if I were to write a note in your yearbook right now it would read: I'll love you for always. Your BFF, Kels.

And I mean it, OXI [can I call you Oxi for short?], I will love you…forever.

For the longest time I have tried to be friends with Spray-N-Wash because that relationship was a bit more convenient, but let me tell you, it always left me aching for more. I wanted a commitment from a stain remover-- I wanted someone that would say, "Hey, I got your back. Don't worry about this, I'll take care of it. You go soak in the tub and read a book." But I had to end our relationship.

But please don't think you're a rebound, Oxi. Oh no, you are much more than that. My mom and my sister have tried to tell me about your beauty but, you know how it is- pride comes before a fall, and I didn't want to cave in and say, "You're right" too soon.

But yesterday you were there for me when no one else was. You were there in the midst of the chaos. You were there in the midst of my tragedy. You stood by my side, took my hand, and said, "Kels, I got this. Relax." And you did, Oxi, you did.

When Blythe pooped all over creation, you were there for me. You extended your kind and generous hands saying, "Give me your bedsheets, and crib mattress, and clothes, and blankets. I will make them beautiful again."

Did God commission you to this earth? Did He mix you up, high up in the heavens, pouring something magical into your container?

Oxi, BFF, I just wanted to say thanks for all you do. Your work does not go unnoticed. I'm sorry I was not faithful before, but I will be now…until the end.

Love,

The new master of "the pre-soak", Kels

from piles to files

My mom has a story she likes to tell that she feels demonstrates the difference between Kali and me when we were younger. 

It begins with her getting us ready for school. Mom always braided both of our heads in her infamous french braid. These braids were so tightly woven that I'm certain some days I saw spots. Kali's golden hair, and my deep brown locks, were safe from anything below 80 mph winds. 

And then we always put on our outfits that Mom had laid out for us, making sure we neatly tucked in tails and bloused things that needed blousing. Mom likes us to look neat and well put together. 

And so the story goes that after getting ready one day for Kindergarten, Mom sent Kali off on her merry way to school. Before mom was even ready to sit down for lunch, Kali was on the phone calling home and informing her, rather frantically, that she had a run in her tights. Mom assured her that everything would be okay, that she could just wear them until the end of the day, but Kali insisted that everything would NOT be okay, that she could NOT wear them until the end of the day, and that life as she knew it was a DISASTER if the run in her tights was not remedy. 

And so Mom made a special trip up to the school, a different pair of tights in tow, and fixed Kali up. All was right with the world again.

Fast forward two years. After getting ready one day for Kindergarten, Mom sent me off on my merry way to school. At 3:30 the bus pulled up to our driveway, and I tumbled out: My braid was nearly out, my hair frizzed everywhere, I had runs up BOTH legs in my tights, my shirt was completely untucked, and I was dragging my backpack behind me on the ground. 

And so it was. I was usually slightly bedraggled. I usually didn't have it quite put together. And I usually left a mess in my wake. 

My room was covered in piles of clothes, piles of books and magazines, and papers and posters and pictures and games and last year's halloween candy, and glitter, and streamers, and CDs, and shoes, school binders, and paint, and blankets, and stuffed animals, and wrappers, and…. My room was covered. I never really knew where I had put jeans, because my drawers had no order to them. I could be deep into reading a book one night and the next night I couldn't even locate it. I remember once finding a huge jawbreaker that I had started and thought I'd come back to it-- I hadn't. 

In my defense, I didn't have a closet. I had a tiny, tiny room and I quickly outgrew it. But when we moved my sophomore year of high school the piles seemed to move with me. Even though I gained a closet, clothes still struggled to find their place in it. 

In college my roommate, Renae, would eventually say, "Kels, how many clothes are you sleeping with tonight?!" I remember counting one time and had over 12 articles of clothing with me in my tiny twin bed. 

You see, the girl that didn't care that there were holes and runs in her tights in kindergarten grew into a teenager and young lady who didn't care if things had a place. 

And then I don't know what happened. My senior year of college something shifted in my brain. When my three roommates were gone I would organize and clean our closets, vacuum, and even take down the shower curtain and bleach and scrub the mildew off. The girl who used to sleep with her clothes created and labeled tubs to keep things in their place. 

I started student teaching in the spring, and this cemented my new found hobby of organization. I fell in love with sticky notes and agendas and plastic tubs and file folders. When Brent and I got married I thoroughly enjoyed finding a place for everything, and then found that I even enjoyed cleaning and keeping everything in its place. 

In my classroom my students often referred to me as anal. I hated it the desks where moved even an inch. I hated if there was a scrap of paper on the floor or if a book was laid horizontally on the shelf when it was supposed to be vertical. I wouldn't leave school if my desk wasn't clean. Every week I would lysol my desks, and have my students lysol theirs. 

In my home I rearrange and rearrange until I find the best possible place for something. And then I figure out the best organizational tool that will help me keep it in its place. Granted, there are some spots that still need my attention, but eventually I will get to them and I will enjoy the process when I do. As Blythe has outgrown sizes, I have enjoyed labeling and folding and finding the best way to pack  everything as airtight as possible. I recently cleaned out a hutch in my dining room and created craft bins and envision the day when Blythe and I can use the neatly labeled markers, crayons, paints, buttons, and glue. 

My mom has often said, "What happened to you?!" And I don't know. I truly don't know. But I do know that every once in awhile the girl with the frizzy braid, dragging her backpack returns and I just live in a mess…at least for a day until it starts to bother me.