A post that will make you feel better about yourself, one way or another.

Right after the New Year, I noticed there was a flurry of posts on various blogs about home organization.  It was a veritable multitude of clever, crafty and attractive ideas that I would ideally love to try someday.

But let's be honest.  I'm not getting around to them anytime soon.

And then, upon further reflection, it occurred to me that I have my own current style of home organization.  I think I shall call it Redneck Shabby Geek.  Or something like that.

You're intrigued, aren't you? 

For example, I wondered why automotive cup holders can't come standard with carpeted rooms, and then had a flash of inspiration involving an empty can, some plastic wrap, and the small filing cart next to the recliner.

Behold!  A redneck cupholder!  (My carpet thanks me.)

Stuffed animals taking over the kids' room?  Sew little loops onto each of them (do NOT bother with coordinating thread . . . everyone gets purple) . . . .

And then hang them from cup hooks screwed into an unfinished plank screwed to the wall.  Pretend not to notice when lots of things besides stuffed animals also get hung from the hooks.

A big shelf plus dollar store tubs equals two dressers and a bookshelf condensed into a footprint of two square feet.  Yes, the tubs are always messy.  That's the redneck way.

More unfinished wood.  This time, adorned with large thumbtacks.  Hung above the remnants of a broken towel rack that needs better wall anchors.  I'll get around to it.  Maybe when I get around to painting the dusty pink walls.  Don't hold your breath.

Here's a conversation we get to enjoy almost every morning:
Child 1: I need a hairbrush!
Me:  Ask Child 2.
Child 2:  She can't use mine.  She'll lose it!
Child 1:  I can't find mine!
Me:  I've bought at least 25 hairbrushes in the last 10 years.  WHERE ARE THEY?
Child 1: Puh-leeez can I use yours?
Child 2:  NO
Me:  LET HER USE YOUR BRUSH FOR 30 FREAKING SECONDS.
2 minutes later . . . .
Child 2:  Where's my hairbrush?
Child 1:  Pfft, I dunno.

SO, I went to the dollar store (again) and bought three brushes.  Want to see where they are now?

That's right.  Two of them are tethered to bathroom fixtures.  The third is tied to my desk, just to be sure.  Lose THAT, punks.

While Child 1 and Child 2 are arguing over the brushes, Child 3 is usually trying to get out the door without having met a brush at all, and has gotten away with it on a few occasions.  This is why I keep a comb in the church bag, and why I've had to use it while singing the opening hymn on more than one occasion.

No fabric-lined baskets or coordinating rubbermaid containers here.  The toys get stashed in ice cream and laundry soap buckets and tossed onto a chipboard shelf.  *whispering* They're not even labeled.

Some of our laundry procedures (Mom, look away for a few minutes):  If you put it in the laundry inside-out, it will be washed, dried, folded, and returned to you inside-out.  (If only half of the item is inside out - say, one sleeve or leg - I will cave and turn it all the right way so it will fold properly.  I suspect the 8yo is on to this.)  I'm also toying with the idea of not matching socks anymore.  Each person would just get a pile of their own, unfolded socks.  Admit it: you're mulling that one over now too, aren't you?

Redneck Spring Break Resort, Day One

Redneck Spring Break Resort, Day Two

Redneck Spring Break Resort, Day Three.  (Also known as the day even this mother couldn't take it anymore, and made the poor children put it all away.)

You may think you're looking at a deceptively deep puddle that fools each and every kid that hops out of a car in my driveway and results in many a soggy shoe in my entryway, but I prefer to think of it as my moat.  It's more fun that way.

Speaking of excitement, is there anything better than a pack of kids running like a herd of elephants through the back door because they can't wait to show you that they've harvested the first spring flower just for you?

Also regarding excitement, this is such a dopey picture (oh my, I can't believe I'm posting it), but it pretty much sums up the mood around here.

Tick Tock

A few months ago, the kids started asking me several times daily to tell them how many days were left until the baby comes. I'm a math geek and all, but all the addition was getting to me, so of course I made a looooong paper chain:

. . . like that.

And now it looks like this:

(I think it was sat upon sometime recently.)

We are almost to single digits, and I still can't wrap my head around it. Every time I wake up, I have to remind myself that it's for real!

It's a nice way to wake up.