Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Oh boy...

... I'm so tired.

Yesterday evening, at bedtime, the littlest member of our family decided to drink a whole bottle (he just randomly decided a few days ago that it was OK after all to drink from a plastic teat - yay!) then to burp uncomfortably and, when I picked him up, to throw up his entire stomach contents all over my top. In fact, like the practical and competent person I am (HA!) I caught most of it in the little dip that my nursing bra makes, right there in the middle. Ugh! He then, poor little thing, demanded mama's milk rather than the bottle, and proceeded to sleep fitfully, for about an hour at a time, throughout the night. We were both rather shattered this morning.

Which is one of the many reasons why I think shall not devote much time to my task of the day - The Main Bathroom and the Laundry Room. Yeah, I know, I signed up to The Flylady ages ago and receive her emails every day - cheerful testimonials of successful housecleaning and house organising, largely ignored by me while I struggle up the stairs, holding an infant and clutching the hand of a toddler, past the laundry basket blocking the way in the hall, and the boxes, destined for the attic, which clutter up the stairs and hinder my progress. At least I have done some laundry today. Mainly because it had baby sick on it.

I always seem to have plans for the house. Grand plans. Little plans. Humble plans to perhaps finally hang a picture or two on our blank walls. The husband resists my attempts to get him to drill holes and stares in horror at my suggestion that perhaps I could do this. To be fair, he has a point - our walls are fragile, with old crumbling horse hair plaster skimmed with a few millimetres of new plaster, which tends to come off when any nail or screw comes too close, leaving unsightly huge holes in our pristine white walls. Maybe not the right kind of project to learn whielding power tools. In the end he relented and finally hung that mirror. That mirror that I bought nearly 2 years ago, took nearly as long to paint, and which has been standing around, tripping us up, all this time. I'm still startled every time I walk into the lounge that there is something ON THE WALL. It's quite a shock to the system.

The surprise was that the drilling wasn't too bad this time. Which has led me to drag out every single picture hidden away in the attic, and line it up (to be tripped over) so the husband can see it and think "oh, I could hang this up!". Well, one can dream, right?

In the meantime, I could wash the floor in the hall, or the kitchen, or do some more laundry, or dust (everywhere), or hoover the stairs, or clean the bathroom, or declutter the guest bedroom, or plan my week the way The Flylady suggests. Instead, I've been crocheting Granny Squares. I've become rather obsessed. They are everywhere. Tick has been playing with them. The Bean lines them up on the living room floor, Kipper the cat makes his nest on them. Such a good way to get rid of those spare balls of yarn! I've nearly run out now and have turned to thinking of yarn that I could use for the last round and the stitching together of all the squares. I still have a half-frogged Shetland sweater lying around somewhere. Maybe that would yield enough yarn?

So The Flylady has not really been a resounding success around here. Don't get me wrong, I like the concept (although not the testimonials - it's all a bit too weird) and I think it COULD work if one gave it a real try. Of course I find excuse after excuse - mainly that the house is still not finished and we have boxes standing around and bare floorboards with old rugs over them everywhere - but really, lets face it. The house will never be finished.

"But we've been busy!" I stammer, tripping over myself to justify my idleness, "we've been going to weddings at the other end of the country (Devon). Going to Germany to see my family. Doing work type things. Negotiating part-time work for me. Generally living and trying to get stuff done..." and it's true. Still maybe I should give it a chance. 10 minutes of anything isn't such a long time, is it?

Maybe tomorrow - when I'm not so tired.