1950

I love vacuums. It's weird I know. I should get super excited about jewerly, chocolates, and big stuffed teddy bears and I do. The fact is that I only own a few pieces of jewerly I truly care about and I'm awful about remembering to put them on. I am always a girl who loves her chocolate but it only lasts so long. Big bears? I have five daughters which means my home is overrun with stuffed animals. What I love is a really good vacuum that works and is easy to fix. When I first got married my mother in law gave me a Kirby. Dang those things last, and last, and last. They are also heavy. Then my husband bought me a new Bissell. It was lightweight and when the tube got jammed I could unhook it and easily get the crayon/hairbow/stuffed teddy bear out without too much fuss. Plus my house was clean. Last week my Bissell finally died and I went shopping for a new one. It came yesterday. It is shiny and bagless. It picks up super amounts of dirt. Oh yes, I was born in the wrong era.

A Tolkien Kind of Day

I'm the kind of gal who likes background noise. A good audiobook, all kinds of music, a movie, or my squirts practicing the piano. Most days an hour or so of good beats, English accents, or funny narrative is enough to get my 'chores' done but sometimes our home gets drastic. I few weeks ago I posted here about my Jane Austen Day. These are days when there is a big project to finish and I pop in the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice and get to it. Those DVDs are roughly 5 hours long. I can usually finish whatever it is I am doing in time to sit back and watch Mr. Darcy's eyes as he gazes adoringly at Elizabeth helping his sister play the piano....sigh.....
Sometimes 'the house', an entity in it's own right, needs a little more. Break out the Tolkien Day. That is when I put on the extended versions of Lord of Rings to get my big jobs done. I get out all three extended edition movies and haul my laptop from room to room setting it precariously atop something for a little background noise. Battle noises clang and crash as bathroom tiles get scrubbed and windows squeak clean.
Today is such a day. The summer heat is climbing and I do not like to clean in 100 degree temps.  Weekends tend to get used up in our house so I pick a Wed through Fri, give my squirts lots of review worksheets and healthy snacks, break out the M&Ms for myself and the sparkling water for drinking (remember, I am trying to diet here!)

When Dad comes come and Tolkien is on he knows some serious spring cleaning is ensuing. He usually takes the kids and gets out of the house.

So, what did I put on 6 months ago while I was preparing a house to move? Let's just say that every single one of the Harry Potter films can last you quite a few late nights.

Baby Steps Baby

Baby steps baby. That is the famous line of my husband. I tend to set huge goals and then feel a little overwhelmed and defeated when they don't get done in my unrealistic timeframe. This week I wanted the whole house cleaned, organized, and deep scrubbed by Friday when I will be hosting a get together for a few homeschool families. I started by going through every drawer of my five children, you know, in case someone opens a drawer. That done I moved on to deep scrubbing a bathroom, followed by a thorough cleaning out of my closet. Today was the midweek meltdown.
I'm a failure.
I have no energy.
I can't do it.
I am a bad mother because I am ignoring my kids and not actively engaging them in lessons.

Baby steps baby.
1. Re-evaluate goals
2. Write down what you want to get done in order of importance
3. Pat yourself on the back that you have actually accomplished what you have
4. Eat some chocolate

Will my house be imaculate by Friday? No. I will however be happy with what I have gotten done and stop worrying about what I haven't.

There. I feel better.

A Jane Austen Kind of Day

Last post I wrote about my insecurity over my children's clothing. This is not a long time insecurity or a deep set one. It came about due to an innocent comment by a friend. It did get me thinking though that summer is upon us and it would be a good time to turn on the BBC version of Jane Austen (if I would have had a boy I would have named him Colin) and go through all the winter and summer clothes. It was while thus sifting that I discovered a pair of pants my 6 year old has been wearing recently. They are hot pink. They look like pajama pants. They are a size 3.

Hmmm, maybe the insecurities are founded.