Domestic Psychology

you’ve got red on you

// January 23rd, 2010 // 5 Comments » // home, people

I realize that when I write about something as controversial as laundry I risk comments from the comprehension impaired, but I’m all about edgy topics like household chores. Aaaanyway, as I’ve said before, we have color-coded baskets for dirty laundry. The white basket is for whites. The bright green basket is for brights. The navy basket is for darks. This is not a complicated system. Everyone uses it to some degree. They just don’t use it equally. All the females in the house put red clothes in the basket for brights. All the males in the house put red clothes in the basket for darks. This begs the question, do males have rods and cones that “see” red differently than females or is this a gender based interpretation of the color red? Either way, since the woman is always right and all three females believe reds go in the bright basket, the men in the house need to adapt for survival.

laundry and dishes, repeat

// January 12th, 2010 // 3 Comments » // home, life

The majority of my days (and nights) are spent trying to stay caught up on the laundry and dishes. I wash and dry the laundry all week, but every Saturday I strip all six beds to end the weekend with clean sheets, blankets and clothes. If I don’t start Monday with fresh bedding, full dressers and mostly empty dirty laundry baskets, I feel like I am trying to run in a swimming pool all week.

The sink is filled with dirty dishes three (or more) times a day. I should wash them all day, but I usually just stand at the sink for an hour every morning and again every evening. If I miss a day of washing dishes, the counters fill with poorly stacked piles of drippy mess that threaten to fall every time a small child innocently tosses a spoon into the glass and ceramic tetris game.

The first problem was the holidays. Shopping, wrapping and travel made the laundry baskets multiply faster than Tribbles. The second problem was a mouse hiding in the kitchen who made his presence known in every drawer and cabinet. The normal dishes in our family are bad, but when I had to wash every single pot, pan, dish, glass and utensil as well as the drawers and cabinets that housed them, the mess was disaster movie quality.

The final straw was a week of freakishly cold weather, snow and ice. Every single blanket in the house was on someone’s bed. Atop the blankets were unzipped sleeping bags. While the adults waddled around the house wearing more layers than Randy, the children somehow managed to get their clothes soaking wet from snow and ice play, over and over again. Eventually, they had nothing left to wear except swimsuits.

Finally, I can see the bottoms of the dirty laundry baskets and the countertops have no piles of dirty dishes. I can sit down and write again OR I can hold my breath waiting for the major appliance break and stomach bug that are just around the corner.

forecast parking

// December 3rd, 2009 // No Comments » // home, weather

We live in a tiny, older, working class neighborhood with residents who have been here for decades. The roads are more than a little bit steep. There are a few things that everyone in the neighborhood knows. When it rains, the creek is fast and dangerous. Once the leaves fall off the trees, the people at the top of hills can see into everyone’s homes. B burns leaves and branches in the creek whenever it is dry. If children do something stupid, someone in the neighborhood WILL tell the child’s parents. If something breaks, the city and county will both claim that it’s the other team’s problem. When there’s ice on the roads, the only people getting out of the neighborhood are the ones who were parked in the street at the top of the hill.

So, would someone please explain to me why all the neighbors are parked at the hilltop? Do they seriously think it’s going to snow tonight? Did I miss a big weather announcement for tonight? I know it’s forecast for tomorrow, but how often does that forecast come true in Knoxville?

if I don’t do it . . .

// November 2nd, 2009 // 5 Comments » // Doug, health, home

I spent Sunday with no voice, a hacking cough, stuffy nose and an assortment of aches and pains. The cough medicine made me feel like I was sleepwalking in a fog, but it didn’t help reduce the coughing. I swallowed Tylenol just before a coughing fit and one of the pills shot back out. I didn’t know that was even possible.

Doug looked up from his day long Roomba repair and told me to go back to bed. I looked at him through my eyebrows. “Everything will be fine up here. I’ll even wash the dishes.” I sat in a chair and folded clothes in slow motion until I accidentally fell asleep in the chair. I went downstairs. At some point, Evan came down to watch SpongeBob in my room. I woke up freezing and went upstairs to turn up the heat. The heat was off and all the windows were open. I think that I sat and wept until the children closed the windows. I don’t remember.

This morning, I expected a bit of a mess. My family exceeded my expectations. Based on the LAYERS of dirty dishes, all of the bowls and spoons were used at breakfast. Lunch required every single dish and afternoon snacks were eaten from serving dishes. Dinner was improvised with cake pans for plates. It looks like there was some kind of spaghetti battle. The squished pasta in the dogs’ fur must mean that they lost. The only possible explanation for every single cup and glass being used is that my family delicately took no more than a single sip from each glass before getting another glass. Every utensil, dish and pan was delicately balanced on every single inch of counter space and piled high like a bizarre tetris game.

Today, my head feels like it is packed with one too many cotton balls, but I don’t dare let Doug handle everything. His version of watching Evan would involve video cameras and duct tape.

I am not a threat to inventors

// October 23rd, 2009 // No Comments » // home, life

Remember when I said I need metallic dental floss and a bathroom trash can made of metal so that the used floss makes it in the can instead of everywhere else? Add band-aid wrappers to the list of things that should be metallic. I find those tiny, static-prone papers everywhere except the trash can.

Other fantasy items that would be useful:
household rotating front door with a vacuum vent underneath
single use toothpaste dispensers
stacked instead of rolled toilet tissue
metallic legos
playground surface floors for homes
cars for teen drivers made by Little Tikes

household math

// August 23rd, 2009 // 2 Comments » // clothing, home

SAT prep math problems of the day:

If a bedroom closet is 5′ x 8′ and your clothing occupies 18 square inches of that space, what are the odds that a minor flood will get your clothing wet?

Estimate the length of time that will elapse between a declaration that the laundry is done and a household disaster or illness based biohazard which instantly creates a week’s worth of dirty laundry.

vultures

// July 25th, 2009 // 14 Comments » // blogging, home, life, people

One of the side effects of being poor is that you don’t blog about the bargains from your non-existent shopping excursions or the cool new gadgets that you don’t have. I experience the thrill of finding the perfect purse vicariously on others’ blogs. What I don’t enjoy, are the blogs that post “foreclosure” finds. They link to the latest properties about to be foreclosed and auctioned. They encourage people looking for homes and investments to grab these great deals. They brag about the 100K homes being purchased for 5K. Even people who aren’t house hunting, read these blogs and fantasize about being able to flip property at a great profit. There is a huge difference between finding a pair of jeans on a clearance rack and buying a home at 20% of its’ value.

What nobody talks about are the families who are struggling to scrape together the money to save their homes from foreclosure. The debt that increases exponentially every single day with legal fees and penalties. The stress and anxiety at not knowing what horror the next day will bring. It is implicitly encouraged on the “property watch” blogs that you should check out these properties and bid on them. Checking them out means parking in front of the house and staring, pointing and taking pictures. It means getting out of your car and wandering around on property that still belongs to the family living there. It means strangers walking up to children playing in their yard and asking them questions about their home. It seems to make people think that it is okay to knock on someone’s door and ask if you can come inside and look around. These families are still trying to save their homes. They are financially wounded and struggling to survive. Foreclosure bloggers and their supporters are vultures. They are parasites who prey upon the defenseless. Grave robbers.

We watched in helpless horror as a happy family in our neighborhood lost their home. When they ran out of options and the will to fight, they moved into assisted housing. We tried to keep in touch with them, but as they began to change and adapt to their new lifestyle, the play dates for our children quickly stopped happening. Losing their home changed everything about that family. Their marriage ended. Their personalities changed and they are lost forever to the system. The house at the corner of our cove was the home for a multi-generational family. The bank foreclosed and the family left TN to start over again. That house has sat vacant for YEARS. Now it a place for squatters and suspicious activity. Losing the family that belonged there has changed the landscape of our quiet, uneventful cove.

Sometimes, we still dream of a different life. When I do, one thing about my plans never changes. I want to pay off this house and move somewhere else. I want to give this house to someone else who is struggling. It is our lifeboat in the stormy seas and if we survive this storm, I know it can be the refuge for another family.

one of THOSE days

// May 29th, 2009 // 1 Comment » // aspergers, home, humor, kid quotes, medical, parenting, preschoolers, teenagers

Me: “Tommy, do you want to spend the rest of your life just playing WoW in our basement?”
Tommy: “I don’t think you want to know my answer.”

Sarah: “I have NOTHING to wear. I HAVE to have new clothes.”

Noah: “Umm, yeah, I didn’t tell you, but, I, umm, lost a part of my snare drum that you rented.”

Amy: “Where’s the gum I was saving?”
Me: “Where did you leave it?”
Amy: “It was right there. Where Molly is napping.”

Evan: CRASH! “Ow. Ow. Ow.”
Me: pulling the shelf off of him “Where does it hurt?”
Evan: “Everywhere.”
Two hours and one trip to Children’s ER later, we have been reassured that he will be fine. They decided against stitches on his cheek.

I can hardly wait for tomorrow.

bye-bye dead tree

// May 15th, 2009 // No Comments » // flickr, home

a day in the life

// May 13th, 2009 // 3 Comments » // Doug, holidays, home, life, marriage, me, parenting, school, technology, teenagers

5/11 3:00 p.m. – Amy brings home a pile of disks filled with pictures that I agreed to compile into a montage for the First Graders’ end of the year celebration. Two of the teachers sent over 500 pictures each while one only sent about two dozen blurry pictures. My goal was a 10-15 minute loop that had a balance of all the children.

5/12 1:00 a.m. – Evan attempts his nightly trek to our bed, but upon finding me sitting at my computer, the half asleep child demands breakfast. He then proceeds to dump buckets of toys.
4:30 a.m. – Finish First Grade “Year in pictures” presentation, scoop up a cranky Evan and go to bed.
7:30 a.m. – Evan wakes and demands breakfast. Again.
9:00 a.m. – Doug informs me that my photo montage isn’t communicating with the school’s Smart Board.
9:01 a.m. – Begin uploading multiple versions of photo montage to web.
9:15 a.m. – Start washer and dryer.
9:30 a.m. – Evan needs food. Again.
10:00 a.m. – School Matters’ maintenance work, read and reply to e-mails & scan feed activity.
10:45 a.m. – I learn that one of the teachers figured out how to make the photo montage work.
11:00 a.m. – Evan pees on me because he is sitting instead of standing.
11:01 a.m. – Take bath & get dressed.
11:45 a.m. – Start washer and dryer. Again.
12:00 p.m. – Sit down to eat a sandwich which Evan takes from me after I have two bites.
12:30 p.m. – Make a School Matters’ post, read and reply to e-mails, & update Facebook and Twitter.
1:00 p.m. – My father shows up to give me a cake. He doesn’t know why.
1:01 p.m. – My father talks about my brother.
1:20 p.m. – My father leaves and takes Tommy home with him to help with yard work.
1:30 p.m. – Doug looks visibly relieved by the surprise cake delivery.
1:31 p.m. – Wash 2 sink loads of dishes and fold several loads of laundry.
3:00 p.m. – Get snack for Amy & Evan.
3:30 p.m. – Scan feed activity, read and reply to e-mails, & update Facebook and Twitter.
4:15 p.m. – Intervene in Amy & Evan screaming match.
4:45 p.m. – Run to pick up pizza.
5:15 p.m. – Feed children, wash faces and brush hair while scarfing down 2 pieces of pizza.
5:40 p.m. – Leave house and drive to high school.
6:00 p.m. – Attend Color Guard parent meeting that is 90% having our handout read aloud.
6:30 p.m. – No car, so walk *run across Kingston Pike to wait at Books-a-Million.
7:30 p.m. – Doug picks us up and we drive home.
8:00 p.m. – Give children quick baths and put them in jammies.
8:10 p.m. – Clean up the 2 inches of water that Evan dumped on the bathroom floor.
8:15 p.m. – Amy has screaming tantrum because Evan took the towel that she wanted.
8:20 p.m. – Clean children’s rooms so they can go to bed.
8:30 p.m. – Summoned to kitchen where family sings “Happy Birthday” to me.
8:32 p.m. – Gifted new knee socks.
8:35 p.m. – My father and Tommy call to say happy birthday after my mother tells them to do so.
8:40 p.m. – Tuck three youngest in bed. They all acknowledge they had no idea it was my birthday.
8:50 p.m. – Eat piece of strawberry cake.
9:00 p.m. – Wash dishes.
9:30 p.m. – Go downstairs to watch tv in bed. Doug already there watching Earth Girls are Easy.

*Insert teenage daughter snarking about my “big, ugly shoes” and pleading for me to take them off and walk barefoot on Kingston Pike, followed by her mocking the way I crossed Kingston Pike “like a chicken in heels.”