Me

Getting picked up on a Sunday night.

It’s Sunday night.

Every Sunday night I take a laundry basket and walk through each room of my house and pick up all the things that don’t belong in that room and put them in the basket to take them to the room they belong in.

I use an average sized laundry basket. It’s made of white plastic and is curved on one side. I have about four of these. I like them because they hold a lot of stuff and can be held comfortably under one arm.

So explain to me, why are so many freakin’ things in my house in the wrong rooms? I can fill this laundry basket full to over flowing in about ten minutes.

I yell, I whisper. I plead, I threaten. No one in my house puts anything away. It is starting to drive me crazy.

My darling son called me a bully tonight. Yep kid, your Mom’s a bully. Shame on her for trying to get you to clean up your stuff.

As I filled my basket tonight I starting day dreaming about moving out into my own small apartment. Just me. Think of it. I could decorate it the way I like, things would be where I want them to be and just imagine! – No one would leave their dirty undies in the middle of the entrance way.

Don’t ask.

Who is raising these slobs anyway? Oh. That would be me.

Never mind.

Okay then, I’m back to filling the laundry basket.

Sigh.

14 thoughts on “Getting picked up on a Sunday night.

  1. Right now, I have only 1 son and already, the mess that he creates drives me nuts. Add 1 more kid and it will be 2 times the mess. So, sometimes I ask myself this: Do I want more mess? Since the answer is no, I’m having a hard time convincing myself that I should have more kids!!

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  2. I completely relate. Though, we don’t have dirty undies in the front entrance way (as we don’t have a front entrance way), but I find panties and socks in the oddest places.
    And why cannot the dust stay away for even a day?

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  3. Oh, how I hear you! I was downstairs today working out and almost turned off the light and ran on the treadmill in darkness so I didn’t have to look at the power rangers, legos and Hot Wheels staring at me and mocking me as I huffed and gasped my way through 30 minutes of cardio-vascular hell. (I am a little out of shape in the last year)
    KEEP BELIEVING

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  4. This made me feel better. I feel like I’m contantly telling the kids to pick up after themselves. I’ve tried everything to make it as easy as I could on them. What really gets me is when they come home from a friend’s house and tell me how neat and organized their house was!
    Ahhh, I feel so much better now. I enjoyed this.
    BTW, I’m Maria. I just found your blog from Karen.

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  5. Can I move in with you? Pleeeeeeeeease. I promise to pick-up after myself. Good god…I should be able to manage that as I pick-up after 6 every day! (Notice I’ve included the hubby in the equation)
    Honestly…do you remember your parents having to do this? I was reminded – we don’t have 1/4 the amount of “stuff” that our children (heck…us, too) have.
    Throw it all away!!! (okay, I’ve threatened that but somehow I have trouble parting with stuff, too…but at least I pick it up and put it away!).

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  6. The last time I stepped barefoot on a matchbox car during the night (it was a fire truck)was the LAST time. Now, EVERYONE, toddler included, has to pick up their stuff before going to bed. No exceptions. That way, everyone (and the house) starts off with a clean slate the following day. Now, if I can just get the boys to stop throwing their socks into the hamper INSIDE OUT…

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  7. My husband doesn’t wear any underwear… that’s how we fixed THAT problem. Oh, was that TMI?
    We have the toy fairy visit. All toys left out get swooped up (and stashed in a giant plastic tub in the shop) at night. If little kids aren’t interested in taking care of what they have then they don’t need it… that’s the toy fairy’s motto. Eventually, some of these toys come “back into rotation” and the kids are thrilled… it is like getting a new toy! It really helps me out as well because our house is really little so taking toys out of rotation saves space.

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  8. Sometimes I fantasize that I will take the misplaced ‘stuff’ and hid it in the shed. I wonder how long it would take my kids to actually miss some of the ‘stuff’ that they leave lying around.

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  9. Oh, I have that nice little apartment fantasy too! It’s wonderful!
    Some people I know have a “If it’s on the floor, it’s trash” rule that helps. I’m just always telling the kids to pick up their stuff and put it away. It drives me crazy. If one of them called me a name, though, you can be sure he’d have to write that name about 500 times. And put away everyone’s stuff. And apologize – a lot.

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