Today, November 16, 2012

Today’s project:  Ruling the dominion of a domestic goddess

God love Rosanne Barr for giving us the moniker ‘domestic goddess’ to describe the everyday tasks and tribulations of an ordinary housewife.

Today my plans of grocery shopping and other errand-type runnings was cruelly thwarted by the fact that there was no school.  DURN YOU Plan-Ruining Fates! I shake my fist in the air at you!  And maybe throw in a raspberry or two…

Well, fine.

What to do?

Plan B, I guess… And Plan B was ‘clean the house’ (and other household tasks).

I hate Plan B.

Anyways, I decided to just rip the band-aid and get it done.  As I told me girls today, the sooner we get it done, the sooner we can get back to doing fun things.

I, long ago, made what we call ‘the chore box.’ It isn’t fancy (which gives me a little twinge every time we bust it out, but you know, you can’t be Donna Reed ALL the time!).  It is a plastic index card box and a handful of index cards.  On each card is the ‘chore’, where to do that chore and the steps to do it.  For example, one card is titled ‘SWEEP’ and lists the kitchen, bathroom, living room around the rug, and foyer, etc. and then things like ‘pick up all the rugs’ and such. We pull all the cards out of the box and each person chooses what chore they would like to do.  When you are done with your chore, you put the card back in the box and choose another card.  We do this until all the cards are back in the box and all the chores are done. 

I find this system really works to get the kids working because it takes a bit of the ‘have to’ out of the process since they get to choose a card.

As my girls started with their choices, I dug into ironing the hubby’s shirts.

I hate ironing.  I hate Plan B.

I’m pushing that durn iron around on the board and a million thoughts are going through my head.  I thought I would share them with you…LIST!

1.  Why, o why, are things made for just non-tall people?  ’  Our ironing board is an old-fashioned, in-the-wall-hidden-cleverly-behind-a-door contraption that loses a lot of its MacGyver coolness by being mounted about a foot too low to be comfortable for me.  I decided I would combine exercise and thigh/butt slimming techniques by squatting while I ironed.  I abandoned this quickly when I felt like I must look like an aboriginal woman giving birth in a hut in the Outback.  Countertops, desks, tables all mock me every time I go to use them.  With a cackle they say to me, ‘Tall people are not worth accommodating!’

2.  I’m reminded of my father.  My dad is an ex-Navy super-dude who would be utterly shocked at my efforts at ironing.  I remember when I graduated from high school and he spent 2 ½ hours ironing all the stupid wrinkles out of my disposable polyester graduation gown.  I thought he was so silly to stand there cursing at that thing that I was about to wrinkle the crap out of by sitting in it for 3 hours.  But I appreciated his efforts.

3.  I’m reminded of my mother.  Who currently irons all of my dad’s laundry.  And I applaud her patience as she spends a couple of hours every week pressing pants, dress shirts, shorts and polo shirts.  I know my dad isn’t as bad about knife sharp pleats as he used to be…and he MUST have mellowed since he doesn’t make her iron his undershirts and underwear.  Although, I have a sneaky suspicion that periodically, he goes behind her and re-irons stuff. ;)

4.  I’m grateful to my parents for instilling in me a mild case of OCD.  Silver linings all over the place!  Wait, should I polish those?

5.  I’m missing an additional helper who was the first to suggest that ‘chore day’ be on Friday.  She had a whole list of reasons that it made sense to do it on Friday versus any other day of the week.  I wish I could remember that list.  I remember it made me smile when she told me.

6.  I hate Plan B.

7.  I turned on the radio in the kitchen while we worked and they were playing Christmas music.  All of us did a little happy dance as we gleefully hummed along to jolly tunes.  I love Christmas music.

8.  I’m glad that Boo has told me that her favorite chore to do is dusting.  Because that is my least favorite chore.  Score!

9.  It amazes me how much I like to speak in simile and hyperbole.  Like a Jersey girl in a leopard print factory…

10.  Since I’m exhausted after doing all of this work, I think I should be able to count this as exercise.  As such, I’m going to go sit on the couch, drink a bad-for-me soda and watch a Lifetime movie.  I mean, the world needs balance and I don’t want the scale to tip on my account – for having done too much ‘good’ stuff without throwing some ‘bad’ in.

So in the end, I smacked that domestic goddess list-of-crap like it was a $10 French HO and I was it’s pimp!

As the ruler of this domain, I hereby decree this blog to be clean and organized…enough.