I came into this world a very organized person. I don’t lose things, I don’t forget things, I never exaggerate …
Well, that’s a lie.
Anyway, I have always taken pride in my ability to whip a chaotic situation into shape. My house usually appears clean on the surface – yes, even with three kids – as long as you don’t look in the drawers, because I don’t fold anything. I just cram it in there and everyone has to dig for what they need. My need for order is a nice compliment to my husband’s ability to clutter up a room in 30 seconds flat.
Baton Rouge Moms is doing a 2014 “Organizational Challenge,” and I was hoping to share some wise words about being organized … until I was forced to face reality.
The old me never lost anything. The new me sets her oven on fire when company is coming over. She loses gift cards. She throws away important papers and forgets to pay bills. Since my youngest was born in June, I have turned into one of those women who put blankets in the utensil drawer, mix up my kid’s names, put their diapers on backwards, and huff “Whatever, it doesn’t matter!” an awful lot.
Over the past 2 weeks we have lost a sippy cup full of milk and a Dr. Brown’s bottle with formula in it somewhere in our house, and we live in a very tiny house. I am working on tracking the smell. We’re also missing one Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle slipper and my sanity; if you have seen either one, please let me know.
And then … I lost some money. A lot of money. It seems I misplaced a check for $1,800. My husband was like, “I HANDED IT TO YOU THE FIRST WEEK OF JANUARY. WHERE DID YOU PUT IT?” and I said, “I DON’T KNOW! CAN’T YOU SEE I’M DROWNING IN CHILDREN?!”
I have no business handling sizable checks, and he should know this by now, but he must still have faith in my abilities because he sure did give it to me, and guess what I did with it? I wrote a grocery list on it. I then crammed it into my purse, and went to the store days later where I proceeded to refer to it, cross off the items one by one, and crumple it back into my purse — which I later stowed in my too-small closet with a bunch of other things.
Thankfully, I found it while I was freaking out and turning the house upside down looking for it, half-hoping I’d find the source of that sour milk smell as well. I suppose this is the point where I realize I need help. I’m not sure in what form, but I definitely need to change my methods. Maybe the answer to my issues is an over sized planner, a new filing system, therapy, or a sister wife. Maybe all of the above.
So if you came here today looking for practical advice, I’m sorry to disappoint, but there’s a plastic dinosaur sitting in my refrigerator next to the milk. Clearly, I can’t help you … but you can help ME by telling me what things you have lost in your own house lately. Let’s all hold hands and feel crazy together!
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