Ok, stop laughing. I am amazing … I can give references … there are people who think I am just that. Of course, you could only ask them about me in the context in which they know me because I have done an amazing job of compartmentalized all facets of my life. It is a really long story, but not all of it is important. But once upon a time, I not only knew how to manage my home and keep it clean, tidy and running smoothly – I was good at it. That is the person my parents raised and if you run into them, please do not tell them that I’m now a hot mess or anything about this blog!

For now, I’ll just outline my journey. It starts with me being raising by parents who taught their children how to do all the chores necessary to keep up a home and set strong examples for being responsible for yourself and your actions. I was given a good, strong foundation and thank God daily for my family.

I graduated from high school and heading off to college. I kept to the same routine as I had at home and fortunately had roommates who did the same. My dorm room was generally neat and clean except for the morning after pulling an all-nighter studying for a big test; there was usually a pyramid of empty Coke cans that needed cleaner away.

When I graduated from college, I moved 6 hours away from home to begin my career. I had a very nice 1 bedroom apartment. It was actually quite spacious – or maybe it was that I didn’t have much furniture. Dad had patched up an old vacuum cleaner for me … it was a Hoover and it hovered!. And I do mean patched up, the hose was nearly completely covered in tape, but it worked. I kept everything clean and tidy. Saturday was laundry day and just like I’d done every Saturday of my life going up, the bed got stripped and clean sheets put on every Saturday morning. I dusted 2 or 3 times a week whether I needed to or not and vacuumed at least every other day. I had mats both outside and inside my door. I cleaned by routine, not by need. My apartment was ready for inspection at all times.

I had lived in my perfect little apartment for nearly a year when a couple of girls I had been acquainted with at college were looking for a 3rd roommate to share a 3 bedroom apartment. When my lease expired I moved in with them. They had both moved in about 6 weeks earlier and had taken the 2 larger bedrooms. This left me with a room that was significantly smaller than the bedroom I’d had that I had to figure out how to fit all of my belongings into because they had already filled the shared living spaces, too. I still tried to keep up with my routine, but I also learned to live in a cluttered space.

When our lease expired, one of them was engaged and the other was going to get a place with her boyfriend leaving me to get my own place again. I moved into a very large two-bedroom apartment and I eventually found a roommate (who was never there) to help with the rent. My paycheck had grow a bit, by then, and I started to purchase things I thought I wanted/needed for my home. The reality was I began to collect stuff. After a couple of years, I moved again to a one bedroom apartment and it was over furnished to say the least. This is the first time I remember not doing a good job of keeping things neat and tidy. I thought I needed more space, but I know now I needed less stuff.

Then I got married and both are stuff moved into that apartment with the addition of a small storage unit for his furniture. Less than a year later, we got a mortgage and moved into a modest 3 bedroom house and had a child on the way. I fell back into my old routines fairly easily for the first 2 -3 years in the house. I not only managed to prepare meals, keep up with the laundry and keep the house clean while working full time, I even managed refresh the painted walls. But I also had to face the fact that the man I had married suffered from paranoia and depression; I spent a large part of the first 3 years on my own in that house with my son. Then my husband came home and part of me seemed to shut down. I did all of the tasks necessary to provide for my son’s well being … I cooked for him, washed his clothes, played with him, took him places, etc and I took him to daycare while I worked a full time job to support us … but when I put my son to bed at night, I went into hiding and stayed in my room away from my husband. He had become verbally abusive and critical of everything I did. No one in my family or at work had any idea about any of this – I could not share it with anyone.

This continued for another 14 years before I found enough courage to force a change. I think it is almost as sad to realize it’s been 13 years since then and I’m still working to recover from the damage those years wrought.

And yes, I do fight depression almost daily.

How am I doing with my Focus Areas today?

Bed was made first thing this morning. It really is becoming automatic and it does feel nice walking in and out of the room and seeing a space that is neat and tidy.

Laundry was a “work the piles” day. I went through and pulled out all the towels and linens and folded them. That was a visible impact.

Dishes are coming along. I need to unload the dishwasher and put everything away. I’ve decided I will start by emptying the silverware basket and putting those items away first since I have had trouble with leaving it on the counter. And I am going to sort through my utensil drawer and get rid of all the unused clutter that I’ve collected. Do I really need to hang on to odd plastic measuring spoons that the measurement has worn off of? Time to clear some clutter … and away I go!

Linda

P.S. Note to self: find some pictures, your blog site looks b-o-r-i-n-g!