Full Disclosure

After a friend mentioned last night something about wanting to come over to see our latest home renovation projects and my quick objection given the half-done state of every project and general upheaval in our house, I started to think about what it would (I mean WILL) take to get my home presentable.  Just presentable.  Not scoured and pristine.  Just okay enough to invite someone in and not be mortified because of what I realize they're seeing.  Somehow, my eye-brain connection has developed this sympathetic blinder system where my eyes, not wanting to constantly assault my brain with "LOOK AT THIS DISCOMBOBULATION!" messages, just turns everything into a wash of color, texture, and...

So what will it take?  A whole lot.  And the recurrent discouragement that comes each time I try has something to do with the fact that I do try.  I do.  Sometimes with a whole lot of gusto.  But then I get burned out and so two days later the ol' tornado rips through again and we're back to square one.  I've tried various methods.  The most effective being, sadly, the bin/bag method - where I gather everything in a room, dump it all in some sort of collection device, and haul it into the computer (junk) room.  And there it sits for months until I get REALLY crazy and decide to tackle that room and start by dumping out all the bins, make piles of similar objects or objects that are intended to all go to a particular room.  And then, you know, the girls come in to "help" and the piles begin to swirl in to each other and some just mysteriously up and re-displace themselves and the vicious cycle continues.  (I also tried the "scoop everything into a corner of the room and throw a blanket over the mountain as to disguise it" method when my mother drove across the country to see our house for the first time.  How sick is that?)

Anyway, so this morning I pulled out the toaster and cleared a spot for it on the counter.  Looking at the random things that had to be scooted, I thought, "This is pathetic. Seriously."  I took a mental photo of what lay within a  two square-foot area just to concentrate on what had ended up there and got an idea.  I ran to get my camera and took an actual photo.  Thinking of my family's response to the state of our computer room when viewed as the background via Skype on Sundays, (total shock and dismay - with lots of laughing and head shakes) and my reciprocal desire to knock their socks off the next time by having it all cleaned, I wondered if just maybe I was clueing in to "the way" my house is going to finally gain order.  If I show the world (all 5 people who follow this blog - whom I thank) in full discloser, hiding mostly nothing, what my house is really like and I see it as they do (via photos on my blog), just maybe that'll be impetus enough for me to get it together and at least tackle one area at a time.

Yes.  I believe it has come to this.  Crazy, I know.  But I know Alison well enough now to know it's the crazy stuff that gets her hoppin'.  Feel free to comment, to suggest, to laugh, to throw up, to learn more about the symptoms of ADHD (without hyperactivity), to have bake sales on my behalf so I can hire a professional organizer.  Whatever.  But here you have it: the first installation of "Cross-sections of Chaos."

We'll start with the cross-section of counter (non-) space that inspired this new approach: ITEMS - 

A drill,  knife, measuring cup, pepper mill, last night's baked beans, newly opened food storage rice can, olive oil, the toaster, teapot, lantern, Ellie's Easter bonnet, a Chipotle menu and various address labels atop a wooden frame, baggie full of rubber bands, markers, tape measure etc. etc.  SICK.  I KNOW.

QFTD

The girls were getting restless (slightly violent, even) in the bath, waiting for me to finish my last little painting spot.  Ellie, shouting: "ABBY! I'M TRYING TO BE A NICE FRIEND!  I'm getting out of here!" Abby: "Fine! Get out of town!"

Abby, while watching me paint our entry:  "I think we should get a new house.  This one's boring."

Abby:  "Mom, if you leave food on the counter does it decane?"

Ellie:  "I can't get up.  I'm too old."

Abby, whose bedroom has sort of a flower garden theme: "Mom, if you see a butterfly or ladybug outside, kill it and we'll put it on my flowers in the vase, okay?"