Skip to main content

Runaway Keys

I am not your typical organized housewife. I always sit in awe of those women that tell me of their organizing strategies and go home more determined than ever to fix my cluttered life. I'm still working on that. Right now, my kitchen looks like a bomb hit it. Most days, I am yelling at the boys telling them to pick up their toys, put their dirty clothes in the laundry room, clean their rooms, sweep the floor, etc. etc. I finally came to a drastic decision. I decided to put up a gate to the living room, scour the room clean, and never let the boys in there again. So far, so good. Anyone coming to our front door will see a beautifully kept up living room and say, "Wow, she really has it together!" Now I just have to figure out what to do about the rest of the house. Our microwave cart is always the place that collects the things that I find on the floor or the counter top.....and that's where we usually put our keys. After dropping Nathanael off at school, I usually get home and immediately start in on homeschooling Caleb. This morning, when we got back home it was a little crazier than normal (which is really saying something) and I didn't put my keys on the microwave cart as usual. Talk about being a total scatterbrain! Disaster loomed and I didn't have a clue. I went about my day as usual till the time came to pick up Nathanael from school. I went to get my keys and wow, what a surprise! No keys. I immediately started hyperventilating. I knew I wouldn't find them. I had no idea where I had put them and trying to find them in my house was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Believe it or not, but this was like the 5th time I have lost them. I called the school and got their answering machine. Trying to keep my cool and not turn into a blubbering mess, I ransack the bedrooms thinking maybe Aidan's sticky fingers got a hold of them. By the 5th phone call to the school, I finally got someone. One of the teachers offered to bring Nathanael home. I was grateful, but my smile froze on my face. I frantically put Caleb to work picking up the toys left on the kitchen floor while I rushed around like a madwoman clearing off the kitchen counter. I kept thinking, "Thank goodness I made that new rule about the living room!" The teacher didn't come to the door, but I came to realize something. We need a copy of the van key.

Comments

striving... said…
so did you ever find the keys? and where were they? I would have left them in the car if it were me!
Andrea said…
Dee, I love your stories. I'm afraid many of them seem more like pain than fun. But pain IS funny. Your solution to the living room is a great idea. I wonder if that isn't why homes used to have a formal living room, only used when visitors were over. Families used to be much larger and must have had much in common with you. There is nothing new under the sun, after all.
As for the "typical organized housewife," I've only met those when they have a paltry one or two kids. Any family I've known with a brood your size has chaos much of the day, or everyone is miserable. I come from a family of six children, and my mother homeschooled the last four of us. She worked ALL the time and still our home barely kept utter chaos at bay. Your babies are so much more important than things. I'm glad you enjoy them so much.
striving... said…
Amen Andrea!!! I always remember when you told me about your mom and how stressed she was by the time she got to church on Sundays. Every Sunday I remember your mom LOL :) Dee, Anytime you think of a "Typical organized Housewife" Just remember your dear friend striving, AHHHHHH to feel normal. we are in the same boat, kind of.

Popular posts from this blog

The Top 20 Clean Romance Movies Of All Time

I'm really picky when it comes to romantic movies. I prefer them clean and it's really hard to find those kind of romance movies these days. Nowadays, romantic movies are chock full of butts, boobs, and beds. Just sayin'. I was bored one day and decided to google the top romance movies of all time. You have got to be kidding me. One list had Brokeback Mountain on it. Pulease. I was, in fact, so disgusted by all of the lists that I came across that I decided to make my own. I decided to call it The Top 16 Clean Romance Movies of All Time, well, because I couldn't think of anymore to make it an even top 20. Now, my list might be different from most people. I said I was picky. First, I don't like b***** women. That scratches out a whole pile of popular movies. One of them being Gone With The Wind. Does anyone besides me want to smack that woman? Second, I don't like it when the couple end up in bed together. Uh, I don't really need to know, thankyouverymuch. Th...

Grooming Gargoyles

Some say boys are much easier to raise.  I can see that.  Girls have that PMS thing going on once a month and who wants to deal with that?  Not me.  It's bad enough I have to deal with myself.  Plus, girls can be overly dramatic and cry a lot....wait.  Maybe they aren't too different from boys.  However, there is one thing that I probably wouldn't have to deal with if I had girls instead of boys. That would be hygiene. Being a girl myself, I know that girls like smelling nice.  We love to take baths and soak in sweet smelling bubbles and make our skin feel smooth.  No way are we going without brushing our teeth just in case our honey wants to steal a kiss.  Hair, makeup, deoderant...let's face it.  We are not going to face the day without looking good. My boys are different. They would wallow in their own filth and revel in it.  Big Mac Attack has finally gotten to the point where HH and I don't have to nag him to take ...

Surprise, Surprise

Our cute, little booger is being potty-trained now. Oh, joy. I hate potty-training. To me, there's nothing cute about it. It's a nasty, disgusting business and I'd rather it pass by without me having to do with it. The nasty, disgusting part is really not the part that I hate the most. It's the fact that I have to get off my patoosky every stinking hour to place the cute, little patoosky on the potty chair. Let's face it, I'd rather be doing something else. He is the last one, though, so I will prevail in this. I must or the child will be using my floor for a potty chair for years to come. Case in point. Sneezy came to me with a soiled diaper telling me that he "poot". I don't know why I didn't believe him. Maybe because I didn't smell it, but I took his diaper off thinking there were no surprises. Well, that surprise plopped out onto my carpet and I gasped in shock with my jaw to the floor. Since Sneezy was standing in close proximity...