Except, please do. Bother me, I mean. Everyday. Multiple times.
A friend of mine told me about this website that is supposed to be a godsend for women everywhere who feel like they are being swallowed alive by their homes and the messes within.
Normally I laugh at people like this. I look down on them, asserting my feminist side, assuring myself that I don't need to have a super-clean house in order to feel, be, or give love. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone (except for my oldest friends, who for some reason illicit cleaning frenzies in me that are undescribable -- yes, that's YOU Shah & Chaika), nor do I have any desire to try to be Martha Stewart. Ever.
So why I am spending all this time rambling in honor of this housekeeping homepage? Because my house is beyond messy. It has a life of its own, and is not-so-slowly sucking my brains out. I get bummed every morning when I come down the stairs to a messy kitchen. I get pissed when the kids (you know, the 4 and 1 yr old), spill shit on the floor. I can't concentrate, and all I want to do is sit. All day. Every day. Gilbert Grape's mother would have nothing on me if I could have my way.
Along from the fact that I do not want to be this kind of Mommy, I do not want my daughter to grow up to be this kind of woman, and I certainly wouldn't approve if my son chose the same sort as his wife. So in an effort to kill 2 birds, I'm tying the stone to my feet and jumping in head-first.
The site is flylady, one I'm sure many of you have seen or heard of before (and if it didn't work for you, please don't tell me). I love a new challenge, especially at the beginning, so I'm on a roll for now. Allow me to gather my rosebuds. My sink is shining, my shoes are on, and I'm getting along with Shawn.
So far, I give this FLY thing 4-stars.
Bleak But Beautiful by The Pioneer Woman
20 hours ago