First of all, I would like to define irony. Irony is when your brother gives you a hard time in the comments about not having an organized house, when your brother has a maid at least twice a week as well as a super-organized wife, as well as 6 walk-in storage closets in his upstairs hallway, as well as an island in his kitchen that is nothing but storage and approximately the size of my dining room. He has a butler’s pantry for all his silver and serving pieces, a temperature-controlled room for his collection of “special bottles,” :-) and a full wall of built-ins in his den, the bonus room, and the playroom.

So in the sweetest way possible, I just want to point out that perhaps he’s lacking just a wee bit of perspective about what it’s like to find room for all of my family’s stuff in a 2400 square foot house – when he has (at least) three times as much room. Just a thought. When you have a mudroom AND a special bathroom with a shower off your backyard entrance so that your boys don’t track dirt into the house, things can stay a bit, um, tidier. When your laundry room is bigger than most people’s kitchens, things don’t get quite so cluttered.

In other words, when you open his closets and cabinets, things don’t fall on you.

Just a little perspective on all that.

On my end of things, I won’t get into why this organizational thing bothers me so much, because it is a long, complex tale, so suffice it to say that it ain’t just about the cleaning, people. David said essentially what Liz did – that none of this stuff matters a hill of beans to Alex, and the days with him are few – but because of the way my mama kept house when I was growing up, I have a VERY high standard in my head. And when I don’t meet it, I feel like a failure. Please don’t even address that statement in the comments, because I can’t take a pity party, but that’s how I feel.

This battle is not a new one for me, but it came to a head this week because I came back from Mississippi with all of Alex’s birthday presents and realized that there was nowhere to put them. So they’re all still sitting at the bottom of the stairs. But y’all have given me some good ideas, and I imagine we’ll be at Target early in the morning buying all manner of Rubbermaid products. My main thing is that I AM SO SICK OF LOOKING AT BASKETS THAT I COULD SCREAM. All those cute Pottery Barn fabric-lined baskets with which I was so enamored when I was pregnant? I could throw them in a pile and burn them. SICK OF BASKETS.

So, I really am going to clean out this red chest in my den, buy containers to go in the bottom of it, and put Alex’s toys there. That way he can put them in there at the end of the night, I can shut the doors, and I won’t have to look at them anymore. I think that’ll be helpful.

David had a great idea, too. He told me to make a list of everything I want to do in each room – and we’ll just knock out one item at a time. My list for the kitchen was a full sheet of legal paper…and I got about 1/3 of them done today. Some of the items are a little more long-term…so there won’t be any quick fixes, but hopefully we’ll be in better shape in a couple of months than we are right now.

Lea Margaret asked me why I don’t try to get on “Mission Organization” – but we’re just not that far gone yet. Everything looks relatively orderly on the surface. I just don’t think we’re using our space well…I don’t think our set-up makes much sense, and that’s what I want to fix.

Oh, am I ever ready to talk about television again. :-)

In the meantime – PROGRESS!

Lovely clean kitchen floors and baseboards.

BEFORE: Crazy pantry that had obviously experienced an explosion.

AFTER: Orderly pantry that doesn’t make me want to scream.

See y’all tomorrow. :-)

About a year ago, on Oprah, there was a story about a woman who looked picture-perfect on the outside. Perfectly-coiffed hair, beautiful suits, matching shoes – she seemed totally together. But when a camera crew went into her apartment, they found conditions that were vile. Foul. Sickening. Disgusting.

There was a flat of strawberries that had been sitting out in the open for over a year. There were so many dishes in the sink that they had molded, and bugs were everywhere. Garbage flowed out of the cans and onto the floor. The dogs used one of the bathrooms as their personal restroom – and it hadn’t been cleaned in, well, ever. The woman’s bed was completely covered with clothes, magazines, newspapers…she couldn’t sleep there because of all the stuff.

When the lady had to face the inevitable therapist in Oprah’s studio, he pointed out that her failure to clean her apartment – her willingness to let it become almost uninhabitable – was a form of perfectionism. At the time I thought that was the strangest thing I’d ever heard. But Therapist Man explained that the woman had such a high standard in her head, that when she started to feel the apartment’s cleanliness slipping away from her, she gave up altogether, completely overwhelmed by a standard she felt she could never achieve.

And then I totally got it. Because that kind of personality? It’s me.

Now please do not call in the reserves and drive over here from Madison County (Elise) with your cars loaded down with brooms and mops and Pledge and Comet. There’s nothing that severe going on. I’m still loading and unloading the dishwasher on a daily basis, still hanging stuff up in the closet and putting away laundry. But I am feeling really, really overwhelmed by my house. And I’m so overwhelmed that I don’t even know where to start. I feel like there has been a toy explosion, and the debris has landed in every single room. I can’t stay caught up with laundry, my floors need mopping, my windows need cleaning, my porch needs painting, my pantry needs cleaning out, and on, and on, and on. I think I’ll tackle one thing a day, like the kitchen, but I get distracted and then Alex needs me and I end up doing one load of laundry, wiping down the countertops, and throwing up my hands, basically. I make a list, and look at it, and I want to cry. Literally.

It’s starting to make me a little crazy. I’ve hit the metaphorical cleaning wall.

I spent some time this afternoon on the FlyLady website, hoping to find a system or at least get inspired enough to develop a system of my own. So I’m going to try the sink-cleaning thing tonight and see if that sparks any resolve.

In the meantime, if you have a system – aside from spending the $300 a month that cleaning services in this part of the world cost – I wish you’d share it. Keep in mind that I’m not at home most mornings, so any sort of “from 9 until 11 I scour the commodes with boiling water and my homemade ammonia” won’t really work for me. I need practical. Really practical.

And please don’t tell me that this isn’t a big deal and I just need to relax and let it go. I’ve tried. But I’m not programmed that way. I’m one of those people who is psychologically affected when my surroundings are out of order (ever seen me re-arrange furniture? I am TORMENTED until the arrangement is aesthetically pleasing), and I can’t take the house baggage any longer. I just don’t know where to start, and more than that, I don’t know how to maintain The Land of The Toddler.

So yes, internets – this is my cry for help.

Don’t leave me hanging (apparently my ability to make bad laundry puns remains intact even when my house isn’t clean, and for that I think we’re all quite grateful).

About year ago, our next door neighbor, E., Queen of All Bargain Hunters, told David and me about this deal where your family can eat out at restaurants and receive cash in return. We’re always suspicious when someone says that we can get money for doing basically nothing, but E. promised us that it was a legitimate deal.

And you know what? She was right!

So if you live in an area with most of the major restaurants, and if you’re interested, go to Mystery Guest, Inc., to sign up. In our case they contacted us about a week after we registered with our first dining “assignment.” You go to the restaurant they’ve selected at a pre-determined time, order your food, pay for it, come home, fill out an internet survey about the restaurant, and about a month later, you get a check for $35. That’s it, more or less.

Yesterday we ate at The Cheesecake Factory for Mystery Guest, and while it isn’t my favorite restaurant because it’s essentially an overpriced sandwich shop with hunks of cheesecake on the side, I certainly didn’t mind having supper there in the name of consumer research. Our neighbors ate at Bahama Breeze a few weeks ago…so it’s not like you’re going to be asked to head down to the corner gas station and sample corn dog nuggets.

Just thought I’d pass along the info.

Going to NK’s grandparents’ house today reminded me so much of being at my Mamaw and Papaw’s house. There were all kinds of barns and fences and stables and cattle grates…lots of places to hide and play and pretend. And then there was the food, oh my word, the food – pot roast, mashed potatoes, fresh corn, green beans, macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs, rolls, green salad, homemade lemon pie – what most of us fix for lunch, I’m sure.

Outside there were huge trees in every direction, the prettiest green grass I’ve ever seen, and nothing but rolling hills (and cows) as far as the eye could see. Gorgeous. I’m not a nature person (I think I’ve made that abundantly clear), but Alex really seems to be. He is perfectly content to roll in the grass, stand under the trees, count the clouds, dig in the dirt – he loves it all. So when we’re outside, I watch Alex like he’s a TV show or a science experiment: “Watch the youngster as he examines the worm – and doesn’t scream! Note the child who falls down in the mud – and thinks it’s funny! Observe the toddler as he frolics in the weeds – and doesn’t complain of itching!” It just fascinates me to see how he soaks in his surroundings, how he really enjoys nature, and my prayer is that as Alex gets older, the outdoors will become a wall-free sanctuary for him, a place where he can really feel God’s presence. And that is my Sensitive Mama Moment for today.

Okay – on to American Idol. Kevin, Lisa, and Bucky as the bottom three – can’t really disagree with that, even though I have Ace issues (sorry, Lauren and EK – if if makes you feel better, he was looking directly at both of you, seeing the depths of your very souls). :-) But I think we can all agree that Kevin’s 15 minutes are over. Maybe when he gets back into school he’ll get the leading role in the fall musical and be the best! Danny! Zuko! ever! ‘Cause Kevin will totally rock in Grease, y’all. Totally. Rock on, KC.

Next. Is anyone besides me watching America’s Next Top Model? I won’t bore you with the details if I’m the only one watching, but I have SEVERAL observations if any of y’all are tuned in. Which reminds me. I haven’t done well with posts for The Amazing Race the last couple of weeks because it’s right after AI, and it’s hard to get it all done, so Merritt, you and I may just have to email about it. If that’s okay.

Here’s one more picture from today…and with it, I bid you good night.

So it was slightly pretty outside. Slightly.

AC wasted no time at all getting on her horse.

My own child was slightly more skeptical, as you can see from the fact that he’s not even holding on, and right after I snapped this picture, the dog named Chip spooked the horse named Bear, and the boy named Alex came sliding right out of the saddle. At that point Alex’s horse days were over.

Alex spent the rest of the day running and exploring and shouting. When we were out in the pasture, I couldn’t take pictures fast enough because of the color of the grass.

The reason he’s so far away from me is because, well, he’s young and fast. I’m old and slow.

And I think this picture of Alex and AC at the end of the day is just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

Alex and I are about to leave for a farm in Bessemer, which is about 40 minutes from where we live. We’re going to my friend NK’s grandparents’ place, with the whole idea being that a farm = wide open spaces = lots of running = a couple of exhausted three year olds by 2 this afternoon. Her one month old will be with us, too. But I don’t think she’ll be doing much running.

I’ll take lots of pictures. I think y’all will be especially interested to see photographic evidence of how God obviously likes NK better than He likes the rest of us, if the way she bounces back from pregnancy is any indication. If the way I bounce back from pregnancy is any indication, God not only dislikes me…he smites me. Verily.

Hee hee.

So I’ll post pictures later this afternoon, once our day-o-fun is done.

And did I mention there will be a horse at the farm? You will no doubt hear Alex’s scream of delight around 10:30, so keep your ears open.

Hope y’all have a great day.