Party poooper?

So I survived a birthday slumber party with several eight and nine year old little girls over this past weekend. Let me just say first off, I quit smoking in January and have rarely craved a shmoke. I dearly wanted one at 6AM this morning as they woke me up screaming and running through the house.

I knew that the girls would be in and out, in and out all day/night long so I didn’t make the house spotless before they came over. Yeah, it was clean. But, it coulda been cleaner, and I wasn’t too afraid knowing that my floors weren’t mopped, and the child’s room wasn’t spotless, and so on. I knew that once they left, I’d have the opportunity to fix and clean everything.

And I didn’t set any rules. No, I didn’t want to throw a bunch of rules at the girls, and expect them to actually listen. I didn’t want to sound like an old, biddy so I let them do what they wanted. Oh my freaking gosh . . . a mad house, I was in a freaking mad house.

I was literally going, OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG .. ! Oh – My – FREAKING – Gosh! Look at my floor! Look at my couch! Look at my kitchen! Oh my poor poor kitchen!!! Don’t worry cabinets, they won’t slam you shut much longer. No, they’re parents will pick them up soon. Oh, ‘fridgerator, don’t cry. The spilled milk on your shelves can be cleaned up. Oh there, there .. let me get it!

I cringed. And I cussed under my breath. I held my breath. I looked away, and covered my eyes. I peeked through my fingers and saw them pillow fighting with my couch cushions, and I was like ohhhh myyyy freeeeaking goshhhh!!

I finally got them all to settle down and eat some breakfast. Cake and ice cream for breakfast, all around! I sugared them up and sent their little butts home. And then I got to cleaning! And I cleaned. And I smiled. And I loved every minute of it.

Vacuum woes

I try to vacuum my house every day, so I was quite heartbroken when my vacuum decided to crap out on me. It was a very reliable vacuum, too. I’ve had it almost 7 years and it’s never given me an ounce of trouble. But gradually, it just started going downhill, not wanting to suck and clean properlly. I was not going to have that, either!

So it farted out, which meant I had a decision to make since buying a new vacuum is not really in my budget .. electricity for the month or a new vacuum. Which one – which one. It was an incredibly hard decision to make, but in the end, I made the ultimate decision of getting a vacuum. I just gotta figure out how I’m going to make use of it in the dark *sigh*

Gladware

What is it with me?  I cannot stop buying disposable Tupperware, preferably “Gladware”.  Just when I thought I had it under control, and all my tuppies are in order – I see they have Halloween Gladware available at Tar*get and Wal*mart.  Shit!  How am I going to recover from this addiction if they don’t stop coming out with cute designs.  I feel like a kid in a candy store when I get to that isle in the store.  I actually get a surge of excitement!  Adorable ghosts, pumpkins, and witches with different colored lids.  What could be better?

I hate it when I start out with PERFECT Gladware, and if I don’t take great CARE with it,  it gets discolored, or this kind of white crusty stuff on it.  If one of the kids throws it into the dishwasher with food bits in it, sometimes it becomes encrusted onto the Gladware and that means it has to be thrown away.  Even if it becomes to scratchy looking, it’s garbage.  It must be clean and CLEAR.  Why?  Well, it LOOKS dirty to me, That’s FUCKING WHY!!!

It makes me happy to open my cabinet and see all of my loverlies lined up and ready to go.  In all shapes and sizes with matching lids.  A lid is missing?  WHAT?  The container is banished to the garbage.  I cannot have an extra container laying around without its partner.  Why do I put so many into my shopping cart?  Well, what if there is a plastic shortage? 

  Does anyone else suffer with this?  When I saw the latest Halloween edition, I was piling it into my shopping cart like a mad woman, my son (11 yrs) said, “Wow, mom, do you really need all of that?  Didn’t you just buy some of that last week?”

Ugh, if he only knew the half of it!

~Bella

Online banking

A few years ago, my bank account was totally wiped out. I don’t know who did it. I don’t know why. All I know is that I went to the ATM one morning, and I was 500 bones in the red. The bastid had taken all of my money, plus some. I don’t have much to begin with, so when someone stole my money, I was completely heartbroken. I was devistated. I was angry. I was scared.

After many phone calls, trips to my local bank, and waiting patiently for two weeks, my money was back in my account. I was relieved, somewhat.

That was a few years ago. To this day, I still check my online banking at least ten times a day. TEN times. A day. Sometimes more, if it’s been stressful. I have to check it. I have to make sure that nobody is trying to take my money. I have to make sure that if something changes, I know then and there what it is, why it changed, and how much money is left. I never want to be in the situation I was in ever again.

:: :: :: Red :: :: ::

Could care less #6

Something I could give two shits about:

My CDs or DVDs don’t have to be in any sort of order, they just have to be present. I don’t put them in alphabetical order, or by genre, or by the year the singer OD’d. They’re just there, in their shelf, waiting to be listened to/watched.

:: :: :: Red :: :: ::

Computer whizzzz

My computer. It is mine. The husband and child might use it occasionally, but it is mine. And I keep it the way I want it to be kept. I organize it the way I want it to be. I purge what I want gone. I keep what I want to keep. The files are kept cleaned out, defragggged, organized just right, and anything I see that doesn’t belong gets tossed out. On a regular basis.

I don’t keep emails in the inboxes. They don’t belong there. If they’re keepers, they’ll get filed along with the others. Or they’re just deleted.

Pictures and music files are not to be kept on the computer – They take up space. That’s what they make flash drives for. I don’t want the memory used up on my computer.

Even the desktop is organized and clean of clutter. I have six icons on the desktop. No more, no less. Only six because those are used the most often, their homes are on the desktop.

Noone is allowed to change anything on my computer. Not the colors, not the font size, not the volume, nothing. I don’t even want the monitor moved. It is mine. It’s how I want it to be. It shall stay that way.

Got it? Good. Carry on.

:: :: :: Red :: :: ::

Erks me long time

Cupboards and drawers must always stay closed. I don’t want to see them open even a fraction of an inch. I don’t want them ajar . at . all.

And I don’t want to see anything poking out of them. No clothes, no towels, nothing. I like them clean looking so that means that whatever is in the cupboards and/or drawers, must be completely inside. No poking out. Ever.

:: :: :: Red :: :: ::

Cleanliness rocks my socks

 

I don’t trust any kind of cleaner that I can’t smell. Take the new Clorox Anywhere spray cleaner mumbojumbo. It’s like water. Water. It has no smell. No color. It’s like spraying water everywhere, and cleaning it off. How do you know for sure that it’s actually clean if you can’t smell the cleanliness?

I like the smell of cleaners. Wood polish, yes please! Windex, over here! Bleach, hells yes. Give me some bleach, and I’m a happy camper. I mop with bleach water. Always. Twice a week. No fail.

A few weeks ago, the daughter came home from being away at her dad’s for a week, and I had just finished mopping the kitchen and bathrooms.

Her: *sniffs around* What’s that smell, Ma?

Me: I just mopped.

Her: Yeah, but what’s the smell? *sniffs more*

Me: It’s bleach.

Her: *big sniffff* Mmm, Mama, it smells soooo goood!

Me: Yes, that’s called cleanliness.

Her: My dad’s house doesn’t smell like cleanliness.

Me: *my heart bursted wide open, smiling from within* No, huh?

Her: No, that’s why I like living here.

Me: Good answer.

:: :: :: Red :: :: ::

A little down time

Okay, so I threw my back out the other day causing me to be bed-ridden most of the weekend *ughhh!* which in turn made my house completely and totally unruly. It was a mess, noone picked up after themselves. The dishes were piling up. There were empty glasses in the living room. Dirty clothes were spewed everywhere. The dog was starving and becoming quickly dehydrated. I was not happy.

But then . . then, the husband decided he wanted “to help”. He did laundry. He cleaned the kitchen. He attempted to fold my towels. And he rearranged the bathroom towels. And he put dishes up where they don’t belong. And he folded my towels! And he swept the kitchen floor the wrong way. And he didn’t pick up the poop off the floor. And he folded the towels! And he left wet laundry in the washer. And he gave the dog too much water *yes, he can have TOO much* And and .. and he folded my towels!!!

I understand he was trying to help, but he wasn’t helping. Once I’m up and running again *which I’m hoping is tomorrow!!* I’ll have to redo everything. Until then I’ll just wince and cringe at everything he touches.

:: :: :: Red :: :: ::

Could care less #9

Something I could give two shits about:

My kitchen towels. I have a large drawer specifically for them, but I don’t care if they’re balled up, thrown in there, folded, unfolded, wrinkled or just bumfuzzled in the drawer. As long as they’re clean, it’s okay with me.

:: :: :: Red :: :: ::

Yes, the actual drawer.