Chores, Ugh!

I hate chores. It's bad enough when it's just you that you're picking up after. But throw in a couple of kids and a spouse and things start to get out of hand.

In our house, the laundry is never ending. Dishes can magically fill the sink between bedtime and breakfast. Shoes and socks litter the floor like wrapping paper after Christmas morning. Meals must be prepared, served, and cleaned up - at least 3 times a day. There are 3 beds to be dealt with, one of which is a crib. There are 2.5 bathrooms to clean, one of which belongs to the kids. In the course of a day, my living room can go from spotless to looking like an episode of Hoarders due to the sheer number of toys that make their way out of the bins. Even with a house cleaner helping out every other week, I never seem to be able to get a handle on it. And don't even get me started on our poor little, neglected backyard!

When you're a little kid, you do chores because you want to please your mommy and/or daddy and you think it's fun. Hooray! I put the blocks away the fastest! Did you see me, Mommy?

Then you come to your senses and start to resist the chore requirements. This typically leads to parents forcing kids to do chores through 1) threats (ok, fine, "consequences") - you can't go play until your room is clean - or 2) bribery - here's your allowance for doing x, y, and z.

Then you eventually move out of your parents' house and chores become something you do to prove that you're responsible enough to have moved out of your parents' house. For example, you vacuum and dump the trash before your parents come for a visit. Or it's something you do before a party. For example, you flip a coin with your room mate to see who has to clean the bathroom.

Then, one day, you realize that you've made a significant transition regarding chores. You make your bed, without realizing it, before you leave for work. You load, run, and unload the dishwasher without arguing with your spouse/room mate about it. You find yourself wanting to vacuum so your carpet looks nice. Your clothes are clean, folded, and put away. You may even have a houseplant or two that are still alive.

Welcome to adulthood!

It's not that chores become any less, well, chore-y. It's just that after 20 plus years, the tasks that you have despised since you were a kid have finally become just part of your day. And, like it or not, you've come to realize the importance of doing these chores. I know that it's gross and unsanitary to not clean the toilet. I know to vacuum my floors so I'm not walking around on dirt, hair, and who knows what. I know that if I want to eat off clean plates, I have to wash them. And I know that laundry doesn't magical fold or hang itself up.

And now that I'm not just an adult, but also a mom, I know why kids are assigned chores. One less bed to make, one less room to pick up, one less table to set or clear, one less load of laundry to put away, one less bag of trash to take out. I can't wait!

To Blog or Not to Blog?

People write blogs for many different reasons.

There are blogs that are professional, political, psychotic.

There are blogs that are meaningful, meaningless, moronic.

People blog to share information, insight, infatuation.

Some are for gossip, some make you laugh, some make you cry, some make you think.

Most are personal. And all of them mean something to someone.

Yes, there are many different reasons to write a blog.

The authors of blogs can write exactly what they wish they could say out loud. They can tweak their drafts until the words are just right. They can give real, deep thought to their arguments before advocating an opinion. They can pour their souls out on to the Internet as a form of free therapy. They can write whatever they want without giving much thought to how someone reading it will react. There are fewer social restrictions on the Internet.

And there are many reasons to read a blog.

It's where you can get professional, political, and psychotic information.

It's where you can get meaningful, meaningless, and moronic information.

People read blogs to gain insight and get the latest gossip on the latest celebrity.

But most blogs are personal. And I believe that there is one main reason people read personal blogs - pure and simple curiosity.

Reading someone's blog is like being handed the key to their diary. You're able to read about a person's trials and triumphs. What they dream about, worry about, love, hate, and hope for. You can learn about their relationships, past and present, with spouses, kids, boyfriends, girlfriends, family, and friends. Personal views on politics, money, and religion all come out. It's not like talking or listening to a person in person. It's so much more.

Readers can come and go as they please, virtually undetected. There's no social obligation to laugh, comfort, or offer advice to the author while reading a post. If you do want to leave a comment, you can write whatever you'd like, even if you use words you would never say out loud - nice, mean, or otherwise. Or, you can just read about the author's life and move on with your day. The only one you're really answering to is yourself.

I write for therapy, a creative outlet, and perhaps because I'm a bit narcissistic.

You read out of curiosity.

Simple as that.

Bedtime

Bedtime at our house has gotten ridiculous. There. I admit it.

It all started when Monkey was 5 months old. See, as a new mom, I read every bit of child-rearing mumbo-jumbo there was. So when it came time to actually get some sleep again, I decided that we needed to train our baby how to sleep. After a lot of reading, I settled on a modified version of the "cry-it-out" method of sleep training.

It worked great! Within 1 week, Monkey was falling asleep on his own. Within 2 weeks, we had cut out night time feedings. Within 1 month, he gave us 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

It boiled down to routine. Nurse, bath, jammies, books, songs, sleep. Same time, every night, no exceptions (within reason, of course). Start to finish, he was sound asleep in 30 minutes.

Flash forward to today and we still follow the same routine, minus the nursing.

Bath, jammies, books, songs, sleep. Same time, every night, no exceptions (within reason, of course). And it was working great.

Until Monkey hit the "terrible twos" in all it's glory.

7:00 - Monkey, it's time to get ready for bed.

"I want to keep playing with my trains... No, I don't want to pick up my trains... No! I don't want to get ready for bed! I want Mommy to put me to bed!"

7:10 - Ok. Yes. Go ahead and use the potty. Yes, you'll get a sticker. Ok. Come on, get in the bathtub.

"I want the Thomas bubbles in my bath! No! Not like that! I want Mommy to put the bubbles in!"

7:15 - Hold still. We need to wash your hair tonight. You have food/sand/sunscreen in it.

"I don't want to wash my hair! No! One rinse and we're all done! I want Mommy to give me my bath!"

7:25 - Lay down so I can put your overnight diaper on. Monkey! Come on!

"I want to pick my jammies! No! Not those ones! I want Mommy to put my jammies on!"

7:30 - You can pick 2 books.

"I want lots of books! No! Not those books! Long books! Two more because I'm two years old! I want Mommy to read to me!"

7:50 - Ok. Get up on the bed. Time to turn the light out. What songs would you like tonight?

"I want lots of songs! No! Not those words! Two more because I'm two years old! I want Mommy to sing to me!"

8:00ish - Ok. Time to go to sleep. I love you. I'll see you in the morning.

"I want more cuddles! I don't want you to leave!"

Monkey, I have to go do some things. I'll come check on you later. I'll be right downstairs.

"I don't want you to go downstairs!  Leave the door open! Wider! You go downstairs and do the dishes and then come back and do more cuddles! I want my mommy!"

I love you. Goodnight.

"whine/cry/pout/kick at the wall/mess with the blinds"

8:30 - Finally he's asleep. *sigh*

Did you notice the theme?

Despite everything we have tried, Monkey refuses to have anyone but ME put him to bed. He can sense my presence a mile away, so unless I'm far, far away, he throws a fit until I go up to his room. You can imagine how difficult this is when we have the demands of an infant too. Between the two boys, bedtime has become a 2 hour plus ordeal. By the time I get back downstairs, I'm exhausted and ready to put myself to bed. But, of course, I still have other responsibilities as well - dishes, laundry, general pick up. If I'm lucky, I might get in a little time to relax. If I'm really lucky, I might get to have an actual conversation with my husband.

10:00 - Time for me to get into bed. Finally.

10:30 - Lights out.

12:30 - First cry from Budsy. *sigh*