So Christmas is officially 10 days away... and I am no where near ready. And I'm not just talking about shopping for presents. I mean everything. Well to be more precise, nothing... as in nothing is done. Here's the run down of what's (not) happening holiday-wise at my house:
- the tree has been purchased, brought home and is in the stand, but not yet lighted or decorated (I have major concerns about the tree this year, real trees usually drink a lot more water than this one has so far and so I'm very concerned about how well it's going to hold up throughout the trimming process); I have not even brought any of the tree or house decorations up from the basement yet
- the wreath is on the front door but not decorated either (this is progress though, because it sat on the end of the driveway for about five days before I found the wreath hook)
- the outdoor lights are sitting on the dining room table and the evergreen trimmings (from the tree) which I wanted to use to accent the railing on the front porch has been in the back of the van for about three days now (thankfully it's been cold enough to keep them relatively fresh)
- I have gathered all the ingredients for cookies (which is what I'm supposed to be making this year) but have not mixed any dough, icing or planned how many I'll need/who I'm giving them to
- I have purchased approx. 1/3 of the gifts I'll need and they are in shopping bags on the floor in room; note I say "approximately" because I have yet to write my gift-giving list, plan what to buy or determine my budget
- I have not yet made final plans about where we'll be spending Christmas Eve/morning (e.g. my house or my mother's) but we do know that we've been invited to a close friend's house for Christmas dinner
- I have not done any of the food shopping yet, nor do I have a clue what I need
ACK!
I don't understand what's happened to me. Years ago I would have all presents purchased and wrapped by the end of the first week of December and my house was fully "decked out" by the first weekend. My gift-giving list would have notations about what to buy for who, possible alternatives, potential amount to be spent, where to purchase the gift AND fields for tracking when I bought it, wrapped it and delivered it. My grocery list would breakdown the ingredients needed for each dish I was planning to serve and quantities based on the number of guests I was anticipating. My bar would be fully stocked and there'd be "back-up" gifts under the tree for adults and kids. Yes, there'd always be some last minute shopping, baking, etc. that I'd have to do but that was part of the fun. Making sure I'd nailed down every last detail even if it meant another trip to the store or staying up a little late on Christmas Eve.
But this year, I swear I barely realized it was December. What the hell has happened to me? Where did the super organized dreag21 of Christmas Pasts go? And why?
I think I'm lacking in the holiday spirit department this year. I just don't feel like it's almost Christmas. But I know I need to get my ass in gear. I could blame it all on being sick recently, but that's not the entire reason. I just don't know what is.
Ah well, hopefully I'll find me a little Christmas cheer and get a move on with the rest. Wish me luck folks. Hopefully you're better prepared for the holidays this year than I am.
(PS: the link above is hilarious, especially if you ask them to sing The 12 Days of Christmas)
*** PROGRESS UPDATE ***
Last night, after we got home from dance class, a quick stop at the grocery and picking up The Girl from work, I got the lights on the tree and in the living room window. Tonight Smalley and I will trim the tree! And I will mix cookie dough, I promise. And if I'm feeling ambitious, I will string the porch lights and put out the flood light... all before I head to the airport to pick up my Dad who's coming in on an 11.00 p.m. flight. Hoo boy.
And there's the answer folks! I figured out my lack of Christmas prep progress: between being sick (for like a week and a half), the busyness of the three kids and balancing my work load, I just haven't had time! But Christmas is important, so now I gotta make time. I can pass out on boxing Day dammit. But right now I gotta get back to work! (I rarely blog from work, aside for uploading a post I worked on the night before and dropping in some links or a photo, etc. But I figured this update would be a quickie.)
Showing posts with label housework. Show all posts
Showing posts with label housework. Show all posts
December 15, 2009
November 23, 2009
All this for freaking dishes
We were all sick on the weekend. Feeling like crap and about ready to die. Seriously. So I convince The Dad (aka the ex) take us to the doctor's. I'm sans vehicle so I have to beg for the favours whenever I can. He obliges and picks us all up. He's apparently a braver man than most because he'll be in close confines with us - at the doctor's office they masked us in the waiting room and then whisked us off into an exam room all by ourselves. Our doctor wore a mask the whole time she treated us and after she escorted us out the back door! Even though she had just declared us H1N1-free! (Which is obviously what all the precautions were about - everyone is scared sh*tless of this thing.) But anyway:
The Dad also stops at the drug store so we can fill our numerous prescriptions (whole family full of asthmatics that were apparently not managing our asthma very well, what with expired puffers, etc.) and we picked up some soup for lunch. Later on, after the girls and I have been fed (The Boy was out of town for the week) and are relaxing on the couch (read sleeping and snoring) I begin thinking of the various household chores that need to be done. And I cringe. I moan. I practically cry. Because I didn't do a damn thing all weekend - we were sick dammit.
The next day, we're all back to work/school (remember no one has H1N1, just me and The Girl have viral bronchitis, so we're doing the phlegmy cough thing and yes a bit contagious... but I sit off by myself in an office and haven't been talking to people too much, and she's just going in to pick up some work/do a class activity). So we suffer through Tuesday and then crash that again night. Note no mention of household chores being done. We're scraping by people. But at this point the kitchen sink at the very least needs some attention. And I am loathe to address it! I begin hinting to The Girl that the house is slowly turning into a sty and brace myself for the showdown.
But since I brought dinner home on Tuesday evening, The Girl is feeling a little giddy (it's called a Poutine High) and she actually offers to do the dishes. Say what?! I mean this girl has not washed a dish in weeks, I swear, and blatantly refuses household chores when I try to assign them to her (teenage girls are a lovely thing folks). And here she is offering to do the dishes. Well praise the Lord, now I am giddy. Ah the power of Poutine. But wait - she does clarify that she'll do them the next day, since she has no classes on Wednesdays. Hmm... now I'm suspicious. Then she adds taking the bins out to the curb (Thursday is waste collection) and I'm sold. Deal! I straighten up the dining room table and clean the bird's cage. It's the bare minimum but it'll do.
So the next morning I leave early in the morning and don't even think twice about the sink. I know my teenager would not mislead me, she wouldn't toy with my emotions about something as serious as doing the dishes. Except, she does. Meaning she doesn't do the dishes. All day on Wednesday she is home, by herself (the pets barely count), and she doesn't do them. Plus she adds more dishes to the pile. But I'm too drained to fight. I leave it. And tell myself I'll talk to her later or I'll find the energy to do them myself. I clean the bathroom sink that evening and decide that's all I got in me. Dishes be damned!
On Thursday morning I sweep right past them again (literally, I swept up the more noticeably bits of debris in the kitchen that morning instead of washing dishes)... but I know they're there, taunting me. I hate dishes. I'm out late on Thursday evening (Smalley has dance class) and when I get home I send up a prayer to Molly Maid that The Girl made good on her promise before I walked through the door. No such luck. Damn!
At this point we're eating out of the Tupperware and smell from the sink is becoming... unpleasant. So I casually ask about her promise to do the dishes and she pretends to have no clue what I'm talking about. And again, I am too tired to fight. *sigh* (However I will point out that it really was because I was sick. Anyone who knows me knows that I do not back down and I don't usually let her slide this much, but I just was Not.Up. To. The. Fight. cough hack)
Friday morning, I decide I need to document this atrocity. This is what my kitchen counter and sink looked like last Friday morning folks. And I warn you now, it's not pretty:
But I still left it. Friday morning is no time to deal with dishes like this. Heck I was willing to pick up the 12 pounds of dog sh*t in the front yard instead of facing this mountain. Besides, I knew they would be facing me that evening. And I'd find the courage to face them then. Because I know that despite her promise, The Girl was not tackling them without a fight.
But then, divine providence! The Girl text messages me during the day - she wants to sleep over at a friend's house that evening, is she allowed? As I sit at my desk reading her text the devious music begins planning in my head and the maniacal cackling begins - MUWHAHAHAhahahahahaha! I respond quickly: Yes! But only if the dishes are cleared before I get home!
Check and mate. She has no choice. She has to do them. I have been saved. I arrive home that evening with a spring in my step. I hit the couch with Smalley and we eat popcorn while we watch R. Patts on Ellen from the PVR (the Canadian equivalent of TiVO). And I enjoy the evening. Because I didn't have to do the dishes.
Sometimes you gotta bask in the small victories people.
The Dad also stops at the drug store so we can fill our numerous prescriptions (whole family full of asthmatics that were apparently not managing our asthma very well, what with expired puffers, etc.) and we picked up some soup for lunch. Later on, after the girls and I have been fed (The Boy was out of town for the week) and are relaxing on the couch (read sleeping and snoring) I begin thinking of the various household chores that need to be done. And I cringe. I moan. I practically cry. Because I didn't do a damn thing all weekend - we were sick dammit.
The next day, we're all back to work/school (remember no one has H1N1, just me and The Girl have viral bronchitis, so we're doing the phlegmy cough thing and yes a bit contagious... but I sit off by myself in an office and haven't been talking to people too much, and she's just going in to pick up some work/do a class activity). So we suffer through Tuesday and then crash that again night. Note no mention of household chores being done. We're scraping by people. But at this point the kitchen sink at the very least needs some attention. And I am loathe to address it! I begin hinting to The Girl that the house is slowly turning into a sty and brace myself for the showdown.
But since I brought dinner home on Tuesday evening, The Girl is feeling a little giddy (it's called a Poutine High) and she actually offers to do the dishes. Say what?! I mean this girl has not washed a dish in weeks, I swear, and blatantly refuses household chores when I try to assign them to her (teenage girls are a lovely thing folks). And here she is offering to do the dishes. Well praise the Lord, now I am giddy. Ah the power of Poutine. But wait - she does clarify that she'll do them the next day, since she has no classes on Wednesdays. Hmm... now I'm suspicious. Then she adds taking the bins out to the curb (Thursday is waste collection) and I'm sold. Deal! I straighten up the dining room table and clean the bird's cage. It's the bare minimum but it'll do.
So the next morning I leave early in the morning and don't even think twice about the sink. I know my teenager would not mislead me, she wouldn't toy with my emotions about something as serious as doing the dishes. Except, she does. Meaning she doesn't do the dishes. All day on Wednesday she is home, by herself (the pets barely count), and she doesn't do them. Plus she adds more dishes to the pile. But I'm too drained to fight. I leave it. And tell myself I'll talk to her later or I'll find the energy to do them myself. I clean the bathroom sink that evening and decide that's all I got in me. Dishes be damned!
On Thursday morning I sweep right past them again (literally, I swept up the more noticeably bits of debris in the kitchen that morning instead of washing dishes)... but I know they're there, taunting me. I hate dishes. I'm out late on Thursday evening (Smalley has dance class) and when I get home I send up a prayer to Molly Maid that The Girl made good on her promise before I walked through the door. No such luck. Damn!
At this point we're eating out of the Tupperware and smell from the sink is becoming... unpleasant. So I casually ask about her promise to do the dishes and she pretends to have no clue what I'm talking about. And again, I am too tired to fight. *sigh* (However I will point out that it really was because I was sick. Anyone who knows me knows that I do not back down and I don't usually let her slide this much, but I just was Not.Up. To. The. Fight. cough hack)
Friday morning, I decide I need to document this atrocity. This is what my kitchen counter and sink looked like last Friday morning folks. And I warn you now, it's not pretty:
But I still left it. Friday morning is no time to deal with dishes like this. Heck I was willing to pick up the 12 pounds of dog sh*t in the front yard instead of facing this mountain. Besides, I knew they would be facing me that evening. And I'd find the courage to face them then. Because I know that despite her promise, The Girl was not tackling them without a fight.
But then, divine providence! The Girl text messages me during the day - she wants to sleep over at a friend's house that evening, is she allowed? As I sit at my desk reading her text the devious music begins planning in my head and the maniacal cackling begins - MUWHAHAHAhahahahahaha! I respond quickly: Yes! But only if the dishes are cleared before I get home!
Check and mate. She has no choice. She has to do them. I have been saved. I arrive home that evening with a spring in my step. I hit the couch with Smalley and we eat popcorn while we watch R. Patts on Ellen from the PVR (the Canadian equivalent of TiVO). And I enjoy the evening. Because I didn't have to do the dishes.
Sometimes you gotta bask in the small victories people.
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