Monday, March 01, 2010

Ch Ch Ch Changes

I need to clean the house really good today and I'm so not motivated to do it.  I haven't felt like taking care of my house for a while now.  Not that I don't keep it picked up or clean but after the weekend, the house is usually always trashed and I am finding it harder to motivate myself on Monday's to clean it back up. 

Someone made a comment the last time I bitched about cleaning that at least I don't have to worry about working a full-time job during the day and then come home and clean.  I know that I am very lucky that I get to stay home to raise my kids and that I don't have to go to work, too.  And even though I get irritated when people say I don't have a job just because I don't get paid, I know that I have it easier than women who do have to work.  That doesn't mean that I WANT to clean just because I have more time to clean.

I think part of my problem is that I need a change.  My house isn't very big so everything is already in a place to maximize the space we have.  I just get tired of looking at the same damn thing all of the time.  When I was little I used to rearrange my bedroom at least once a week.  It used to drive my parents nuts because I would take everything out of it's place and create a huge mess and then switch everything around and clean it all up.  That should've been a sign that something isn't quite right with me but I guess they chose to ignore it.

Everything has been where it's currently at since we moved into the house and it's just getting to me.  I want to repaint but finding the time to do that when the boys won't mess with stuff is few and far between.  I would also love to have new furniture but it's cost prohibitive.  I thought about getting on Craig's List and putting up our own furniture and offer to trade with someone but the thought of using someone else's old sofa is kind of gross.

My bedroom also drives me nuts.  We have 2 overstuffed bookshelves, our queen sized bed, a night stand, a dresser, and a large desk in our room.  There really isn't any other place for us to put the desk or bookshelves because the boys each have their own room.  I've tried to talk Aaron into putting the boys' beds in the smaller bedroom and then turning the larger bedroom into a computer/play room.  The boys would share a bedroom but they would have another room to put their toys.  He doesn't like the idea because he had to share a room when he was younger and he thinks they need their own space.  I agree that when they get older, they should have their own rooms but right now, they could share a room.

Bleh.

I really need to go through their rooms and declutter it again.  They have so many toys that they don't play with anymore and books they don't read.  I just want to get rid of all of it but they freak out when I touch anything in their room.  They have a crap load of Thomas trains & track that they haven't played with in years.  And the amount of matchbox cars that they own is obscene.

Maybe after I get done cleaning the house today, I'll go to Menards and look at paint samples.  I want to repaint the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and all the bedrooms - the whole freaking house.  It hasn't been done in a few years and everything could do with a fresh coat. 

5 comments:

  1. When you said the thought of using someone else's sofa is kind of gross I had to giggle out loud pretty hard. I always picture my asshole grinding on the same spot as possibly the previous owner might have while riding Snookms off into the harmonious sunset.

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  2. I'm working on the new house thing. Good things come to those who wait.

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  3. You know patience isn't my best virtue.

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  4. Used couch...ew. Yeah. While I have them, I am desperately looking to get the hell rid of them in one fell swoop of fantasized domestic revolution. At least they both have couch covers - I don't think I'd want to sit on a used couch in anything other than those hip-wader rubber overalls you see bass fishermen wearing on TV. A former roommate of mine revealed recently that he regularly drilled his girlfriend-at-the-time on the living room carpet when no one was home. I pretty much sandblasted that thing the next day. The right hand side of my brain acknowledges that whatever grossness might have been left behind is probably no worse than what I'm tracking in off the street; the left hand side of my brain is still grossed out.

    I can sympathize on the whole "the house is maxed out on stuff" thing. I'm an unforgivable packrat and after being in the same apartment for eight years now, I'm beginning to realize I'm just stacking stuff on top of stuff. If I'm ever going to move, I'll have to rent a company to do it because, well, I'm not lugging all that crap down three flights of stairs...

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