Bad Timing

Bad Timing

Have you ever noticed that kids are born with a rotten sense of timing? We love them dearly, but let’s face it; they are natural experts in picking the most inconvenient time for things.

Let’s start with birth – have any of you had a child that did not disrupt a major part of your day to be born? Okay, a couple of you, but I bet the majority of gals are like myself. They have been kept awake all night long with labor pains. None of my four darling children took less than 18 hours to make their entrance – so you know I went without sleep for all of them!

Then there’s the pesky little habit those newborns have of needing to be fed every two or three hours. Of course we want them to grow and thrive, but at 2AM we are thinking that it would be great if they fasted for just five hours so we could form at least one coherent thought for the day. Be assured, my babies were never neglected, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t notice that the timing for some of those feedings could have been better!

How about toddlers?! If there’s anyone with a bad sense of timing, they are the ones! I remember one of my little darlings having a big melt-down in the middle of a mall. He was screaming and kicking his feet, rolling under a bench, all the while my husband and I stood helplessly by, sure that if we even touched him someone would report us for child abuse. Finally Hubs pulled himself together long enough to scoop the little stinker up and we dashed for the nearest exit. People shook their heads at us, wondering at what kind of parents we must be. I’ll tell you, we were parents who didn’t get to finish many a shopping trip because of the poor timing our children had for needing naps whenever we took them out in public.

Potty training – there’s bad timing in spades! There are the desperate runs to the bathroom, if a store even has a public restroom (which some don’t!) There are the wet car seats/pants/underwear to deal with because they just couldn’t hold it. Their sense of timing was off and they forgot to tell us until it was already coming out. Yes, bad timing has created several loads of laundry, that’s for sure.

Poor bathroom timing doesn’t stop when they finally become regular toilet users either! My kids even up to 12 years old will wait until we are 10 minutes out from the house to tell me they have to go “really bad”, when we had a perfectly good bathroom they could have used before we got in the car!!

“Why didn’t you go before we left?” is my standard rant, when they spring this little surprise on me.

“I didn’t have to go then.” The classic reply never fails to cause a little teeth clenching.

 My husband was in despair for a few years because it seemed we could never eat out at a restaurant without one of the boys needing to go “number two”. My man is one of those men who prefer the privacy of their own home for that sort of thing, but since we were always in the middle of a meal, he had to escort the boys to the men’s room and stand uncomfortably by while the kid used a less than pristine pot.

“Can’t you remind him to go before we leave?” he’d say to me, directly after the announcement that another trip to the bathroom was needed. I’d just shrug. If only he knew how many potty trips I’ve taken, he’d realize how little sympathy I have for him at this point!

How about bed time? The minute I tell the kids it’s time for bed, they are suddenly hungry and thirsty. So severely so, that if I don’t let them have a bowl of cereal right away, they may die in their sleep! Their father, the sympathetic one (as long as it doesn’t involve a dirty bathroom) tells them to go ahead and have a snack. Half an hour goes by. I remind them all that they are supposed to be going to bed. Sounds of giggling and laughter come from the kitchen.

Of course, all evening these kids have been grousing and tattle-telling on one another. It’s been a long day at school and their good manners are used up. They make mean comments and start arguments about every little goofy thing until I am at my wit’s end. As soon as I send them to bed, they have to eat, but they also get nicer. They are laughing, joking, getting along, just how I would have liked to have them earlier. Instead, they bring out that kind of sweetness just when I must send them to their rooms for the night. What bad timing! I would like to enjoy some of the light hearted banter, but I know if I do, they’ll be grouchy in the morning.

 Often, when it’s time for lights out, my daughter chooses that time to confide in me, she shares all kinds of funny thoughts and little insights into herself. I can hardly get her to be quiet. I don’t even really want her to be, she’s an interesting little creature, and yet – it’s not good timing. Pretty soon the other kids are wondering why she gets to stay up and talk and they have to go to bed? “It’s not fair!” they say. Bad timing isn’t fair to anyone!

Occasionally we can throw in the emotional melt-down that requires a long heart to heart talk, right before bed or time to leave for school. Those things cannot be put off, but they’re never easy to schedule.

We can’t leave out the inevitable sicknesses that come our way. Of course, those aren’t really the kids’ fault, but still unfortunately inconvenient nonetheless. How many big dates have been cancelled or days missed from work because our little darlings have sniffles, tummy-aches, or fevers? How many times have we been puked on because they didn’t start running to the bathroom quickly enough? We stay awake at night counting their breaths. We dash in to the clinic at odd hours, if the Dr. has an opening, we will do our best to make it. Come to think of it, there is no really good time for anybody to get sick.

Of course, we can’t forget school and/or homework. There’s another prime example of poor timing! Kids are famous for telling their parents the night before that they have a project of the solar system complete with diorama due the next day. Many’s the report a mother has half-written just to help the kid get it done in time. (Of course, it does make you feel good when the teacher comments “Nice voice” on the lines you put in. At least someone appreciates you!)

Sometimes they need 25 cupcakes for a class party tomorrow, or they’re having a potluck and promised you’d bring pizza. They might need a costume for the school play this afternoon. Or they told a friend you’d be happy to give them a ride somewhere when you have an appointment on the other side of town. They may have also invited someone for an overnighter and you find out when they show up at the front door with their sleeping bag.

And then there’s the band uniform that needs to be clean for a school concert the next day, (sports uniform could be substituted just as easily.) Birthday parties you find out about 3 hours before they’re supposed to start-( “But I promised him I’d come, Mom!”) The list goes on and on.

Kids – their timing stinks! But, what can we do? The cheeky little buggers are just so darn cute!

The Bible says, “My times are in Your hands.” (Ps. 31:15) I guess if He directs our path, we can give our sense of timing to the Lord. He will give us grace through the inconveniences we face and help to grow our patience as well. He works all things together for good.

And now, before we leave, does anybody have to go to the bathroom?

©2012 Amy Bambilla. All Rights Reserved.

'Tis the Season

‘Tis the Season

Surprisingly, the fourth Thursday of November was not the last Thursday of November this year. You may not fully appreciate the significance of this fact – let me explain.

At first I was caught unawares, realizing that I had not yet planned the Menu with my Mom. I had to scramble to get ready with the mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and six pie fillings, shopping the night before the actual Turkey Day. I wondered why I was so unprepared; looking to my calendar to find out that the actual date was a full week before the usual time. I thought about complaining, but quickly realized that the quickstep to finish my part of the Thanksgiving Dinner was small potatoes compared to the benefits at hand.

Therefore, I would like to thank the powers that be for making Thanksgiving a week early so that we could have seven extra days for our Christmas decorations to be up.

Some of you may not be as old fashioned as I am, you may have your Christmas baubles out well before Thanksgiving, but I am adamantly traditional about this! Christmas doesn’t start until Thanksgiving dinner is wrapped up and put away. Once the turkey is put to bed, the colors in our house change from the vibrant orange, yellow, and brown of fall leaves to the rich red and green of holly and pine.

Probably many of you have the same tradition. There’s just one little hiccup between Thanksgiving and Christmas decorating. The chaotic madness of Black Friday. I doubt any but the extremely gifted could have Thanksgiving packed away and Christmas décor up before the stores open at midnight. Even if you went out first thing in the morning, that still doesn’t give you much time to do a really good decorating job.

I know this from personal experience. I tried a couple of years in a row to go out Black Friday shopping, waking myself at 3:00 AM, driving around in the cold dark morning, looking for parking. If you think about it, it’s an extremely risky thing to do – putting yourself out on the road with sleep deprived people who have turkey residue in their systems. Throw in the mix of only five or six really good parking spots to fight over – it’s a wonder the government hasn’t banned it for our own safety!

Once I got home bleary-eyed, but elated from at least one good deal, I would enthusiastically welcome in the Christmas season by immediately taking down all of my fall decorations and putting them away. I got the Christmas things out, carols blaring in the background to keep my spirits up, and began setting out my knick-knacky treasures. About half way through the morning, I would find myself suddenly out of steam. I curled up on the couch next to a bag of prickly garland and pillowed my head on the Christmas tree skirt. I can’t be sure if visions of sugar-plums danced through my head or not, all I really know is that I woke up with a major case of holiday regret.

“What have I gotten myself into?” I wondered as I stared at the boxes spilling gingerbread men, snow men, wise men, ornaments, poinsettias, and angels all over the floor. “It seemed like such a good idea at the time.” I can’t believe I attempted such a monumental task with only three and a half hours of sleep under my belt.

 It took me a full week to get the house put to rights, my husband lamented about the lack of restfulness. He complained about having to shove a pile of stockings and a box of glass balls out of the way in order to find a small place to rest his tired bones. I sympathized, but I had no power to go any faster, it’s a creative process and I can’t rush it.

This year, thanks to a sinus infection, I decided not to go out for Black Friday. My husband and son went out at midnight, I stayed home. I slept in until 7:00 and felt bright eyed and bushy-tailed. I was so proud of myself! I had a good chance of not fizzling out this year, having forgone the impulse to torture myself in the dark on a cold search for good deals.

I had to make a quick deposit at the bank that morning. On my way there, around ten, I passed by a local craft store. I noticed there were some empty parking spots closer to the front. I actually considered stopping in after I was done with my banking. I surmised the early crowd must have come and gone by now. As I came to the end of the row, about to turn left, I was nearly hit by a crazed woman driving a mini-van, spinning her steering wheel in order to miss me, all the while clenching a page of coupons in her teeth. A sense of foreboding filled me.

Once finished with the drive-thru teller, I turned back into the craft store parking lot, only to find that every space was filled, even all the way out in the boonie area! Apparently that crazy coupon woman had brought back the hordes with her. I left, shaking my head with relief that I had narrowly escaped standing in a three hour line. To be honest, I tried out a local department store as well. Once again, the crowded conditions of the parking lot sent me on my way. Just as well, I had a date with my Christmas decorations. This year, I didn’t have the excuse of being half-dead from lack of sleep.

In record time I had the Thanksgiving stuff carted out into the garage and my red and green Christmas totes dragged in. I enthusiastically cracked them open and began a trip down memory lane. Every year it’s the same; all the home-made ornaments have a special story. Even the store bought ornaments have story. Usually it’s about me having purchased it for 75% off in the after Christmas sale, but a story nonetheless.

The kids came in to “help”. They pulled things out willy-nilly, scattering them all through the house. I sat down for a minute to try and get inspiration. “How will I place things this time?” Though I have the same decorations, I try to mix it up by arranging them differently each year. I have so many things; I have to pick and choose carefully. I try to come up with a theme and work around that.

I come to the point where I realize I can do nothing else until I hang 80 feet of garland around the top of my living and dining room. That means I must call my Dad to bring over his swing-arm stapler. That will take some time- a couple of hours at least. I sit down for a lunch break. I feel tired, that bag of garland looks inviting. I rest my head for a moment.

Several days later my husband asks me when do I think I will have things put away so we can use two of the couches and the dining room table again? I remind him that the creative process cannot be rushed. It has to happen naturally.

I guess my creative process just takes a week – no matter if I've had enough sleep or not. It's just the way it is. So, that is the reason why I’m grateful for the extra week this year. Thanks to the calendar, I will have still a full three and a half weeks to enjoy Christmas even after the empty boxes go back to the garage. Ah well, every family has their traditions, right? It is the Season, after all!

(C) 2012 Amy Bambilla. All Rights Reserved.

Super Mom vs. the Laundry Giant

Super Mom vs. the Laundry Giant

Ladies and Gentlemen!! I’m your host, Jay Frisbee. Welcome to the Washer Dome Arena! We have an exciting match for you today. Two fierce competitors go head to head for a chance to win the title of Champion.

Appearing in this corner, we have Super Mom! She is rough and tough and doesn’t give up. Even when she’s tired, she somehow finds extra strength resources to keep pushing on!

Her opponent, in this corner, Laundry Giant. He is dirty and stinky and never stops growing! A formidable adversary, indeed!

Our contestant are shaking hands, now heading back to their respective corners. (Ding!) There’s the bell! The fight is on!

Super Mom has the odds stack against her; the Laundry Giant has morphed into a huge, insurmountable pile.

Look at that! With lightning speed, Super Mom is separating the piles into loads – she is matching colors and textures, a denim pile, a load of darks, a load of whites. Ladies and Gentlemen, Super Mom is quick!

Oh no! Laundry Giant attacks with an overflowing hamper! Just when Super Mom has the laundry sorted, a giant pile of mixed colors is stacking up. She may need to wash two loads to get that back down. What is she going to do?

Super Mom calls Laundry Giant’s bluff by sifting through the pile and pulling out several clean items that have been stuffed into the hamper by “Mistake”. Was it really a mistake or are Super Mom’s offspring trying to help Laundry Giant win?

And he is really on his game today. The Giant retaliates with a load of wet towels. We are talking towels that have been dropped in front of the bathtub and used to soak up all the water that splashed out when the kids played Tidal Wave. These are combined with several days-old dish towels and dish rags. Oooo-wheee! Those dishrags smell musty too! What is Super Mom going to do about this?

She combats it with a capful of bleach and a washing machine full of hot soapy water. Super Mom really knows how to take on those nasty towels! She goes a step further by folding a basket of jeans freeing up space for another load of wash to go in. Is the Laundry Giant licked?

No! He attempts a final thrust! Out of nowhere he comes up with a load of pajamas and three sets of dirty sheets! He’s pulling the early morning trick of starting off the day with a pile of unwashed linen. How low-down can Laundry Giant get?

Super Mom counters by setting the dryer for only 50 minutes! She knows sheets don’t need a full hour to dry. She has shaved time off of her day, thereby allowing her to leave room for one final load before she has to rush out the door to get the kids to school on time!

Ladies and Gentlemen! We have a winner! In spite of Laundry Giant’s vicious attack, Super Mom continues to overcome with her clear-headedness and nimble agility! She's our Champion of the Day!

Super Mom, you are our super hero! Congratulations! Everyone give her a round of applause!

This is your host, Jay Frisbee, signing off! Join us next time when Super Mom must face off with a Sink Full of Dirty Dishes!

How I Feel About Housework

How I Feel About Housework

If you would have asked me as a child how I felt about housework, I would have declared (emphatically!) that I hated it! My Mother was a bit of a perfectionist and so we were taught to be thorough. That took so much of the fun out of it! Our favorite style of doing housework was putting on an ABBA tape, dancing around and goofing off. Of course, not much work actually got done that way!

 Dusting and vacuuming weren’t so bad. Even though we lived on a gravel road, we didn’t have that many knick-knacks; it was mainly wiping off the book shelves and windowsills. We had a large floor space, it wasn’t too cluttered, so that isn’t what we hated doing.

We did dread doing the bathrooms! Scrubbing out toilets is horribly gross to young girls! But, that only happened once every week to ten days, so even that wasn’t the worst job. The title of the worst job was reserved for the nightly chore of washing dishes.

Though we begged for a dishwasher to help us wash, my Dad told my sister and I that we both had two dishwashers, one on the end of each arm! So, off to the sink and drain rack each night we went.

Mom insisted on scalding hot water. She would check it, too, to make sure it was hot enough to pass her approval. No lukewarm water allowed in our sinks! She taught us to run our fingers over the surface of the dishes to make sure that it was not only sight clean, but touch clean as well.

I vowed I would never make myself be so demanding about housework when I grew up. Alas! The old proverb about training up a child in the way they should go is true. As the years went by, I suddenly realized I didn’t want my dishes to be less than spotless. I didn’t want a dirty bathroom or dusty shelves. Not only had I acclimated to housework, I had actually grown to thrive on it!

I find now that I can take pride in the beauty of a clean house. I am not obsessive about cleaning, but I do find the pleasure is in the reward of its own job well done. Not only do I like caring for my house and making a welcoming environment for my family and friends, but I have begun training my children to help me clean now.

Of course, they are at the balking and obstinate phase of (resisting) housework, but I have every hope of creating a lover of cleanliness and pleasantness in them eventually. At least we have an electric dishwasher now – they should be grateful for that!

How ironic that we can come to enjoy something we never dreamed we would even want to do! It’s kind of funny actually and a good life lesson.

© 2012  Amy Kallberg Bambilla. All Rights Reserved.

The Sweetness of the Stolen Moment

The Sweetness of the Stolen Moment

What is in our human nature that takes joy at the reprieve of time meant to be spent in one pursuit, but instead is granted to us, unexpectedly, like a gift, to be used for something else? So often that feeling of catching up on our day, by having one element of it re-scheduled or even eliminated, recharges and invigorates us like nothing else can. We indulge in the sweetness of the stolen moment.

First memories of stolen moments include those few minutes between when we are called by our parents but before we actually come. Whether it’s in the morning before we have to get up or when we are outside at play and it’s time for dinner, those few moments between the warning call and the final threat are those sweet little stolen moments. They represent independence in a small measure, the last savor of freedom before another’s schedule is imposed on us.

As we get older, stolen moments come in more mature ways such as standing on the porch with a date ten minutes after curfew. Technically we are at home, but still stealing precious minutes of delicious flirtation. Our heart beats wildly for a few more seconds before we must go in and re-live the evening in our minds. The last drop of sweet reality before time turns into memory.

Maybe it’s staying home “sick” from school even though we just had a headache that quickly went away with a dose of aspirin. The guilty pleasure of a day to lounge and watch TV rather than sit in class is all the more sweet because we have been given the perfect excuse to be lazy. In fact, it is almost expected of us on such days. It removes the guilt and makes it pure pleasure indeed.

As an adult, stolen moments are much harder to come by. Consequences for stealing a few extra minutes of sleep are greater when it causes us to be late for work rather than simply tardy for school. However, the guilty pleasures are there to be found. Going shopping with girlfriends when we should be doing our laundry makes the time spent more fun, even though in the back of our minds we are already searching for ways to compensate for our indulgence. And speaking of indulgence, who among us hasn’t sworn to ourselves that we will work out an extra half hour tomorrow to make up for eating a decadent dessert tonight?

The relief of a canceled appointment that gives us an extra few minutes makes our day so blessedly fresh, almost like a renewal. It brings back energy to our day. There is also joy in finishing an appointment early. It becomes time saved to put toward the next task, getting us ahead of ourselves and therefore closer to the successful end of a long day. These are the stolen moments that make us happy, even if we are not consciously aware of it.

If adulthood brings its difficulties in finding stolen moments, parenthood multiplies those difficulties by ten! The sweet relief of napping while the baby naps trumps cleaning the house even though it’s an opportunity to clean without interruption. What mother hasn’t gone into the bathroom to do “number one” but let her family think she needs more time just so she could finish a magazine article in peace and quiet? How many parents have ‘taken a nap’ (wink, wink!) while the kids watched a movie just to find some time together when they aren’t so tired they fall asleep with good intentions and wishful thinking? Somehow desperation compels us to find and steal the moments from our schedule. Our sanity demands it.

Stolen moments, somehow their sweetness sustains us. There is an element that satisfies us when we give ourselves that permission to behave a bit irresponsibly. Duty will always be waiting for us. The unrelenting pressure remains our taskmaster, keeping constant vigil over our time. That’s why the delightful moments when our taskmaster’s eyes are averted and we slip away from the demands of life to a few stolen minutes of reckless abandonment makes the experience sweeter. We know that there are things to be done, tasks to be accomplished, responsibilities to carry out. To grant ourselves the extravagance of being carefree returns us to the real world with a lighter heart, ready again to shoulder our load and accept the limits of a planned schedule. We can do so because we anticipate the next opportunity for the sweetness of a future stolen moment.

(C) 2012 Amy Bambilla. All Rights Reserved.

Adventures in House Keeping

Adventures in House Keeping

Ladies and Gentlemen!! Welcome to our game show—Adventures in House Keeping, where you can clean it up for cash! I’m your host, Jay Frisbee and today our contestants will be facing the challenge of cleaning out under their couch cushions. Remember, there are prizes for the most disgusting item, the item missing the longest and the most unrecognizable object we find. There are also points we award for the most stains on the cushions, the condition of the throw pillows, the general appearance of the couch overall and the history of the piece. Now let’s meet our contestants.

With us today are two home makers. Contestant A is from the nearby metropolis of Greenburgtowne. She has two children, one in middle school and the other in high school. Her husband works at an insurance company and she is a receptionist at a dental office. Please give a warm welcome to….. Sally Ann Johnson!

Contestant B hails from the suburbs of Smithville City. She has three children, ages 7, 3, and 10 months. Her husband works at the local tire factory and she serves as secretary for the PTO at President Calvin Coolidge Elementary School. Put your hands together for Loretta Rinehart!

Now, Sally and Loretta, shake hands and join me here on the stage. Please stand beside your respective couches which we have brought into the studio for today’s competition. We have already had our panel of judges evaluate their physical condition as well as that of the throw pillows. These results will be revealed later in the show.

First, we will move to the history of your furniture. Sally, as everyone can see, your couch is the microfiber piece with three cushions and two matching throw pillows. Can you please tell our audience how long have you had these couches and where did you get them?

 “Thank you for having me today, Jay, and hello to the audience here in the studio and out in TV land. We bought this couch at the Discount Barn about five years ago. This is part of our living room set. Our kids have been kind of hard on the furniture in the last couple of years. They have a lot of friends over so it has seen quite a bit of wear and tear.”

Thank you, Sally; now we go to our next contestant. Loretta, your couch is this floral, tapestry looking print with two large cushions and three unmatched throw pillows. Loretta, where did you get this piece and how long have you had it?

“Hi Jay! Hi everybody! We got this sofa from my parents when we got married nine years ago. They were buying a new set, so we got this one. It’s been in our family room for the last three years. It’s a real sturdy piece, if we want it to look nice for company; we just throw a blanket over it.”

Thank you, Loretta. Now we will move to the portion of our show where we give you five minutes to clean underneath your cushions and display your findings. As you know, we have left your cushions untouched during the move from your houses to our studio. Ladies, assume your positions and please use the trays we have provided for the items you find. Ready ladies? Go!! Audience you may enjoy the music while the ladies are now digging frantically for the items that may bring them prizes and cash.

Okay, girls, time is up! Let’s see what you have uncovered in the past five minutes. Sally, we’ll begin with you. On your tray I see three forks, two spoons, a ball point pen, an egg timer, a crushed paper cup with dried soda drops, two socks – not matching, a hand towel smeared with paint, bread crumbs, a handful of popcorn kernels some partially chewed, the entertainment section of the newspaper dated two months ago, wilted lettuce leaves, a moldy watermelon rind, a sandal, a golf ball, two dice and four markers for a board game, half a candy bar and $1.87 in change. What a good variety of items, Sally. Can you tell me which item has been missing the longest?

“Well, Jay, I think it’s a toss-up between the hand towel and the sandal. I have been looking for that towel for about five months. I know that my daughter needed that sandal last spring for her school dance, but we couldn’t find it, and had to buy a new pair. So, I guess, I’d have to say definitely the sandal.”

Okay then. Loretta, what is on your tray? I see four fruit snacks covered in lint and grit, a dryer sheet, five binkies, a dog bone, a leathery apple core, a pair of children’s underwear, an old diaper, a handful of various dry cereals like Cheerios, a vacuum cleaner attachment, a plastic child’s plate with dried mac and cheese on it. What is this? A snake? Oh, it’s a string of rubber off of a rubber base board. Okay, we finish up your tray with a burp rag, and a broken birthday candle with dried frosting on the edges and a $50 bill. Which of these items, Loretta, is the one missing the longest?

“Now I know why my husband was $50 short from his last paycheck. This money must have fallen out of his pocket! But for the item missing the longest, I would definitely say it’s the diaper. There has been a funny smell in our family room for a month or so. The dog was sniffing around the couch a few days ago, but I thought he was trying to lick that syrup off the cushion from where my son, Benny, tipped his plate over.”

Okay, Loretta, we’ll go with the diaper then. Now that you’ve mentioned the syrup stain, are there any other noteworthy stains you’d like to mention?

“This stain on top is from when my daughter, Juju, threw up after drinking three glasses of grape juice before jumping on the couch for twenty minutes like a trampoline. It took us a week for the smell to clear. And these black marks are from when my husband Roy, gets home from the tire factory and his arms are dirty, but he sits right here to watch TV until I give him his dinner. Speaking of Roy’s dinner, this stain is from the time I gave him a bowl of Spaghettios and the dog jumped right up in his lap and knocked his food right out of his hand and this one….”

Thank you, Loretta, that is all we have time for. We can only mention a few noteworthy stains per contestant. And now, Sally, do you have any stains you’d like to mention briefly?

“This is where my daughter spilled a bottle of Fire Engine Red nail polish and tried to wipe it up with my good kitchen towel, here. And this is the spot where my son sat on a handful of blueberries when he didn’t look before he planted his behind. This spot is where our cat hacked up a hairball. I also want to point out the tear here on the opposite side of this throw pillow, that was my son again, playing around with his pocket knife, the big goof ball! And if you notice the fraying on the sides here, that is where our cat uses the couch for a scratching post.”

Okay ladies, than you for those interesting comments. We’ll now hear a few words from our sponsors while the judges tally the scores to determine our winner. We’ll be right back.

Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, we are about to reveal the scores between our two contestant’s couches. There are five categories of scores which add up to 1,000 points. As I mentioned earlier, we have scores for general condition of the furniture, worth 500 points. The condition of the throw pillows is worth 100 points. Another 100 points for the item missing the longest, 100 points for the most disgusting item found, 100 points for  the most unrecognizable item found and finally, 100 points for the history of the piece for a combined total of 1,000 points. Now let’s see how our contestants did. Sally and Loretta, here we go.

Sally; let’s take your couch first. For physical condition, your couch rates 300 out of 500 for stains and general appearance. Your throw pillows are reasonably fluffy, but one of them is torn, bringing your score to a 75 out of 100. Another 75 out of 100 for the missing sandal. We determined the most disgusting item was the moldy watermelon rind and the most unrecognizable item was the wilted lettuce leaves. You get 180 out of 200 there and 50 out of 100 for the history of the piece bringing your combined total score to 680 out of 1000.

Loretta, your couch wins a 450 out of 500 for physical appearance, your throw pillows are a definite 100 out of 100 for thinness, mis-matchedness and dilapidated condition. Again, another 100 out of 100 for the missing object, the dirty diaper. Glad we could solve that mysterious smell problem for you, by the way. The most unrecognizable object was the rubber base board snake and the most disgusting items were the hairy fruit snacks, and that’s only because we can’t count the diaper twice. Those win you 185 out of 200 and for the history of the piece you score 70 out of 100 bringing your total combined score to 905 out of 1,000. That  makes you our winner! Congratulations!

Here is your trophy for Couch Most Needing to be Cleaned. You also win $500 in cash and a gift certificate for another $1500 to Home Decorations R Us. Maybe you can use it to buy a couch cover to you don’t need to throw a blanket over this couch anymore.

Sally, as our second place contestant, we are pleased to present you with this Dust Buster. Hopefully, it will helpful for cleaning under your cushions in the future.  A big thank you to both of our contestants for sharing their couches with us and being on the show today.

That’s all our time for now. Please join us for future episodes of Adventures in House Keeping, including cleaning under the kitchen sink, cleaning out the linen closet, and cleaning your junk drawer. Remember, if you want to clean it out, you could clean it out for cash!

Thank you to our studio audience; this is Jay Frisbee signing off.

(C) 2012 Amy Bambilla. All Rights Reserved.

Spring Cleaning

Spring Cleaning or the Annual Purge

Ah! Spring Cleaning- that time, once a year, when somehow our instincts kick in and compel us to purge from our lives all superfluous objects unnecessary to our existence. Depending on how committed of a pack rat we are, we can manage to ignore those natural urges, mentally rationalizing why we need these little bits of things that fill our drawers, our desks, our garages and attics.

However, no matter how good the reasons we present to ourselves, in a moment of weakness, our cleanly DNA will give a final command and we yield, whether in a small measure or great. In small measure, we may remove a few items of clothing from our drawers; something that doesn’t fit us, a sock we have lost the mate to, or the t-shirt that is covered in paint splotches from the time we obeyed another natural impulse and beautified something in our home or yard.

If small measures are all we are able to take, we can still applaud. We have appeased our internal urge to bring some order to our lives, even if it’s just in the sock drawer, and so we can go on peacefully. That is, until some other insane notion snags us and we find ourselves in the midst of a big renovation project or something of the like.

If, however, we fall completely under the power of our purging instinct, we have the dreaded likelihood that by the time we are through going through each drawer, cupboard, dresser, and closet, we will have good reason to call this episode of Spring Cleaning “The Great Exodus”.

I have always been rather a late person, though often I have legitimate excuses for those lenient enough to allow me them. Yes, I could have had my four children up at 5:30 to make sure we had the house tidy, breakfast eaten, been all dressed and waiting to leave the house with ample time for traffic conditions. But, if anyone knows how cheerful any kid is to be awoken at 5:30 and commanded to perform several tasks before departure, you will know why I woke them up at 7:30 instead and why we are five minutes late.

Therefore, it stands true to my own character that Spring Cleaning has in reality become Summer Cleaning. You may think that is actually better for now I have longer days with which to organize myself and the help of my progeny, since they are unoccupied with studies. You must realize, though, that I have had the voice of the Tidy-Up DNA ringing in my brain for the past several months, and had I yielded to it when it first began to whisper, I could have gotten by with cleaning out all the clothes that no longer fit the growing weeds I call my offspring and gotten away with it.

Sadly, I have been putting off the cleaning event, for very good reasons, mind you; I do keep a busy schedule. But my brain is not that lenient at accepting my own excuses. No, now I have a raging rant commanding me to get rid of everything in my home and move into a tent, just to simplify my life. In short, I am facing the Great Exodus.

Before you go ahead and say, ‘what’s wrong with getting rid of everything and living in a tent?’ I will tell you that I have done that very thing and there is nothing wrong with it. But a tent is not the ideal situation for a family of six and therefore I have to try and create order within the chaos contained by these walls.

I must take a side note for just a moment, and say that I am completely disgusted with the fact that chaos has returned to the drawers and closets I cleaned out so thoroughly just twelve months before. Didn’t I say at the beginning that this is an annual affliction?

Back to my point. Since I am compelled to do a deep cleaning, I realize I will need a certain number of days to complete that task. ‘Why is that?’ you may ask, ‘I only have a three bedroom house, it can’t take that long to go through it.’ No, it wouldn’t take that long, if I could only pause every single person in my entire family. I could go through their belongings, unfreezing each them one at a time, only long enough to try on a pair of pants to see if they are too short or ask them if they really play with the toy that was given to them five years ago. That would be an ideal way to get things done in very little time.

As you may have remember, while I only have a three bedroom house, I have four children and a few pets, who, while I am working on one room of the house, can be wreaking havoc on all the other parts of the house. Therefore, I must take periodic breaks from the purging of all superfluous items in our home, to come and restore order to any given area.

Fortunately, at the ages my children are now, I can restore order by simply issuing a few commands. “You, pick up all the wrappers lying around here, what have you been eating, anyway?”

“You, rinse these dishes and load them into the dishwasher, we’ll be eating with our fingers if you don’t!”

“You, pick up all the dirty clothes and put them in the hamper in the laundry room. IN the hamper, not on the floor in front of the hamper!”

“And you – put away these toys/markers/games that you left out. Remember, before you go on to the next thing, put the first thing away, that way there won’t be any messes like this!”

Having whirled in and shouted out orders with the efficiency of a drill sergeant, I return to my purging process in whatever room I am working on at the time, returning in ten minutes to peek and see if my darlings are obeying my directives. Half of the time, I have to re-issue my instructions, but half of the time I am pleasantly surprised to see movement and compliance, leaving me the freedom to return to my own work in a satisfied state of mind.

Once the drawers, closets, cupboards, nooks and crannies of my entire household have been gone through and organized, I am left with a giant pile in the garage. Every year, without fail, I marvel at the amount of things we are ready to get rid of. How did we accumulate all of these possessions? What were we thinking when we bought that?

Perhaps there are few items that we thought would be more useful than they actually were. There are things that we had high hopes for, but haven’t actually touched more than twice in ten years, so they can now be released to some other person who may find it more helpful than we did. There are the things that work fine, but have been replaced with something more in-style or more suited to our current whims. There are the clothes that the kids have outgrown, as well as the outfits that I wonder what I was thinking when I bought! How did I think I would be able to pull that look off? No, that little lapse in fashion judgment goes into the pile, to be gotten rid of with all the rest.

Now that the Great Exodus of Superfluous Items had become the Great Pile in the Garage, it’s time for the Annual Garage Sale which always follows the purging process. Somehow I know there are things in that pile which have no more use to me except to be sold to another person who may find a use for it themselves. ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure’ is one of my personal creeds. I have found many handy items in my own yard saling adventures, so I know others will as well.

Thus begins the sorting, arranging and price stickering process that can take several days, remember, that the size of the Pile is considerable. My husband always says to just put it out in the middle of the yard and let people dig through it, but I shudder at his comments. I know this is not a good marketing strategy if we want to clear out these useful but unwanted treasures, and so I organize the Pile. Dishes in this area, books on that table, toys in the bins, big stuff on that side of the lawn; it makes more sense that way. I’m sure all of our customers will appreciate it.

The day of the Garage Sale begins, I am up bright and early setting out the wares, and my husband puts up the signs. People flock in and many things leave our home to find places in someone else’s life. At the end of the Sale, everything remaining is boxed up and brought to Good Will. I sigh in relief, the house is clean, the garage is emptied, and we have money in our pockets.

What to do with all of our riches? Let’s go shopping! By now, it is Fall and the gathering and nesting instinct is upon us. After all, who knows what kinds of things we will need to keep us through the winter? So we must go out and buy it now, just in case, before we are caught without it. Besides, if we didn’t go out and buy something, what else would we have to clean next Spring? 

(c) 2012 Amy Bambilla. All Rights Reserved.