All the Things I am (not)

My friend Ruth posted a lovely message (with a million links) about how blogs can make us feel bad....and how to nip that in the bud.  She challenged us to write a similar type of entry glorying in our less than perfect selves with all our mess and bother.  I don't think anyone reading my blog/FB would get down on their mothering etc, since I am not sure that too many people actually read it, and besides, it is not as if I post about the organic homemade popsicles my perfectly coiffed, fashionable children are eating while using polite language to describe all of their fun extra-curricular activities.  hehehe okay that visual just cracked me up.  THAT is the first thing: Most of what I do is purely for my own entertainment.  And I despise popsicles.

I won't number these because they are all nested.....like the last two.  Besides, that kind of order requires a certain level of parallel structure that I really think I am incapable of managing.

I can't blow my nose.  Seriously.  Well, that isn't really true.  I have developed a system to get my sinuses clear, but the whole use a Kleenex?  Nope.  It makes my ears plug up.....and I always get mucus everywhere.  (Here is a nested one:  My kids say mucus.  We are geeks.  sigh!  At least it makes everyone else laugh. heh!)  I remember when I was little fighting with my mom over blowing my nose, and I suspect my rejection of it is due to the ear thing, but I can't be sure.  So as a corollary, I am also a sniffer.  I also can't sneeze only once.  It has to be like 27 times in a row.  (That really happened once.)  And my last nose related thing: I do NOT like it when people touch my nose.  This was tricky last week when my boy went through a touch noses phase.....

My housekeeper had to sneak in to my office to clean while I was in the States.  She is the greatest lady, but I often wonder what she thinks about me.  I am incapable of keeping my house clean, and what is more, I don't want to do it.  I guess the truth of the matter is: I am capable, I just won't.  Part of the issue is that I like having stuff OUT.  Especially true in my office, but not only there.  I really don't like having to go get my "eating" book.  When I sit down to eat, I want my book on the table.  I KNOW the table is not a great storage place, but if I always want it when I sit down?!?!  Did I mention that I almost always read while I eat?  Even when my children are at the table....sad, I know.  My daughter also reads at the table.

(This is all linked but seemed like the paragraph is getting too long to read easily online! hahaha)
Back to the issue of having things OUT, my husband is always buying storage systems for me.  He is alarmed by the stacks of fabric everywhere in my office.  He thinks that it is because there isn't someplace else for it to be.  There is:  it is on the floor....where I want it. heheh  A Large part of my creative process involves seeing things over a period of time.  Fabrics are often stacked in coordinating groups based on color, while my "storage" is by fiber.  This means that if I put it AWAY I can't use it as a palette to inspire me.  I also never know when the need is going to strike me and I will start work on it.  Having said that, I must admit that I have one palette that has been gathered and waiting since Hawaii...so more than 3 years.

I have no tolerance for pretending to be animals.  I like to believe that I am the kind of person who wants her children to be creative, but this is a creativity I can not abide.  The boy is a dog these days.  argh.  It is especially irritating when he tells me that dogs don't use the bathroom.  I usually point out that they also don't talk and he had better get in the bathroom. 1....2.....3.....4.  Penalty.

In my house we count to 4 when people are on their way to getting in trouble.  It is my favorite number, but it is getting a bit over-used of late.  We also have a penalty rather than a time-out.  It sounds more ominous.  But then I start getting worried that people will think I am going to beat my children when I ask them if they need a penalty.  And I do ask them.....and the boy usually answers yes.

And the last thing for today?  I can not manage to call to make a reservation for childcare.  I am incapable of making a phone call at the appointed half-hour.  sigh!  All the other things on my list are all things I have made my peace with.  They are a part of who I am, but this one drives me nuts.  I am trying to make a change, to exercise.  (because I find I make too many apocalypse jokes about me and exercise so something has to change.)  I signed the boy up.   I even paid already, and I simply can not get my act together at 5 p.m. to call for a reservation.  It doesn't help that the class I want to attend is the only one it fills up for.  I want to think of myself as a person who can make this happen.  I am not sure I can.  sigh!  If you are reading this around 5 p.m.  can you give me a call and tell me to go make a reservation?  please.

So take Ruth's dare and tell us all about the stuff under your bed or the junk in your trunk (hah) or whatever.  Be happy. k.