Tag Archive | chores

Why won’t they just wash a dish every now and then?

My kids. Awesome. Really, they are truly awesome. I did a damn good job in the momma department. Serious kudos to me. Yeah, patting my own back. Someone’s gotta say it.

That being said, I’m going to admit to a little bit of spectacular failure on my part.

These kids, I say kids – they are 27, 24, 23, and 19 – these kids of mine have yet to master the art of washing a damn dish when they are finished with it! At the very least, they could load into the dishwasher. Sheesh.

*For clarification, the 23 year old girl-child no longer lives in my home, but I’ve been to her house, so . . .

I went wrong somewhere. I mean OK, they are kind, compassionate, respectful, loving and all kinds of other great stuff, but they don’t even rinse off their dishes without me losing half my sht to get them to do it. *sigh

Oh well. I still say I was a damn good parent. I’m putting this one on their dad.

My good intentions and lazy kids.


imageI awoke this morning ready for war, ready to kick some ass. I was going to stomp through this day, defeating everything needing to be defeated. I was going to be all the Spartans rolled into one fearsome beast of a stay-at-home mom, tearing across the landscape of my home. Anything standing in my path would be a-nni-hil-at-ed.

To ready for battle I sipped a cup of hot, strength nectar and then another. Caffeinated warriors are un-frickin-stoppable, right? I donned my armor, pinned back my hair, touched up with just a bit of war paint because, I don’t know, reasons, and . . . checked my blog.

I don’t know what happened after that. I had to attend to it. Facebook said I had notifications, so the obvious course of action was to rid myself of their distraction. There were a few things that needed to be liked. I accidentally clicked on the Pinterest icon, good thing too, there were several helpful tips that would certainly aid me in what I knew was going to be a full day of fighting.

By this time, the nectar of strength was wearing off so I had to recharge. While waiting for it to work the magic it always works, I fell into a sleep-like trance, the enemy must have poisoned me. By the time I looked at the clock I realized it was too late in the day to engage my foes with any chance of success.

Tomorrow is another day.

The laundry is piled high
the dishes are still soaking,
dust bunnies have invaded,
and I’m having trouble coping.

Something in the fridge
has really started stinking,
I thought the kids would clean it,
that’s what I get for thinking.

I asked them very nicely,
I said I’d give them money,
I guess they must have thought,
I was trying to be funny.

I suppose if they want to eat
or have clean clothes to wear,
they’ll get up off their butts,
and start to do their share.

I realize I’m delusional
But I kind of have to be,
because somewhere in this mess
I think I lost my sanity.

Crystal R.Cook

Fantasy, fruit loops & mindless drivel.

Stephen Mackey

Here I sit, with a sink full of dishes and a floor in dire need of vacuuming, thinking of nothing but mindless drivel. That in itself is not unusual, thinking of mindless drivel that is, not neglecting my chores. I am never mindless nor neglectful, or maybe I am, I didn’t used to be. No matter, it’s not like I can be objective on the subject. I’m fairly certain I just contradicted myself, 2 points for mindlessness.

I shouldn’t refer my daily housework endeavors chores. The word chore implies something you do to get your allowance. Somehow I doubt I’ll be getting five bucks at the end of the week.

I’m not sure what I could even buy for five dollars these days. Maybe a new hair brush. Mine hurts my head if I’m not careful, half those little colored balls have fallen off the tips of the plastic bristles or been plucked off, one by one in the night by some unseen maker of mischief. Of course, it could simply be that it’s old, I tend to hang on to items past their usefulness date. Not much of a spending spree I suppose.

It doesn’t matter, I hate my hair most of the time anyway. If the whole world was just bald I’d be a happy woman. I’d just shave it all off, but I’d probably have a misshapen head or something and look in the mirror every day and complain about that.

I’m not much of a complainer. I’m not. Besides, I don’t think anyone around here really listens to me all that often. My husband. Now he’s a complainer. Does anyone else know how hard it is to be married to a perfectionist? I used to be one, I’m over it now. So over it.

My husband is a great guy once you get past the fact that he’s a man. Don’t get me wrong, no man haters here, I have nothing against men. I love men, love, love, love them. I gave birth to three of them. Can you imagine what my bathroom looks like? I don’t get it, that thing cannot be that difficult to aim. Point and shoot boys.

When they where little a friend of mine suggested putting fruit loops in the potty to use as tinkle targets. It was great until I realized no one had flushed yet the soggy little rings of artificially flavored sweetness had disappeared, (insert collective eww here). I still have no idea who the culprit was.

My kids have always been really picky eaters, well, if you don’t count the fruit loop thing. They found some chocolate peanut butter in the store the other day and talked me into buying it. I have their undying adoration for the rest of the week now.

I bought some tea for myself, they say it’s relaxing. I don’t know who they are but I listen to them sometimes. I bought the Sleepy Time tea. I sipped a cup while reading a few chapters in my new book, the one I got for my birthday two years ago, and drifted off to sleep. It was wonderful until I awoke about an hour later with an extremely urgent need to use the powder room. A cup of tea will make you pee. They don’t print that part on the label.

I would have woken up anyway. I always do. I haven’t slept through the night in over twenty-four years. First it was late night feedings and diaper changes, then the bad dream phase. When they did sleep through the night I would wake up worried because they’d not woken and rush in to check on them. Just when I’d get used to it, a new bad dream phase would begin. Now late night television, video game marathons and the occasional bad dream often keep me from having those restful nights I so deserve.

I have a dream, well, more like a fantasy . . .

I envision myself waking around noon, gliding to the lilac scented tub that’s been drawn for me and submerging myself in warm bubbles. My husband comes in with a breakfast tray filled with fruits and champagne. He tells me the kids have gone out for the day and he will be in the garage building me bookshelves, I smile and dismiss him. I towel off and drape myself in a silken robe. Gracefully, I make my way into my spotless living room and do a Sound of Music type of spin before sinking onto the couch for a well deserved nap. I awaken to the cherubic laughter of my family as they return home. My husband retrieves the television remote for me before he begins to prepare dinner. After I’ve eaten my fill, I escape the pressures of the long day in a hot shower, then slide into bed and dream the sweetest of dreams.

But, that is a rather far stretch from reality. Far, far stretch. I live in the real world with popcorn under my feet, I didn’t even know we had popcorn. I guess I’d better lug out the old Dirt Devil and get to work. I can drivel in silence while I scrub the pans . . .

Crystal R. Cook

Not much of a morning person, especially in the mornings.

Not much of a morning person, especially in the mornings.

Morning came too soon today,
I wanna crawl back in my bed.
I wanna close my sleepy eyes,
and cover up my head.

There’s no rest for the weary,
at least that’s what they say.
I guess I’ll have to suck it up
and go on about my day.

I’ll make myself some coffee
just a pot or two,
then I must get started
on all I have to do.

I should tidy up the house
pay the bills now overdue,
decide what to make for dinner
and wash a load or two.

I haven’t dusted in a while
I should get that done,
no one else will do it
I guess I’m the only one.

Then again . . .

The mess will just return
later on today,
the bills are late already
what harm is one more day?

No one’s gonna starve to death
if I don’t cook and prep and bake,
they can forage in the pantry
for something they can make.

And if they truly wanted
their laundry done each day,
they’d put it in the bin
instead of where they lay.

So . . .

I’m goin’ back to bed
to close my sleepy eyes,
I’ll do it all tomorrow
when the sun begins to rise.

Crystal R. Cook