If I had a dollar for every stack of clutter in my house, I’d be able to pay someone to clean it up. Not that I would. It pains me to pay someone to do something I can do myself. I have a hard time letting grocery store employees help me to the car with my groceries. It makes me feel lazy, which is a habit I don’t tolerate very well.
I wish I could blame Jon for the amount of time I spend NOT accomplishing much. I was much more productive before we married. Granted, I have more that needs to be done now- that’s what happens when you marry a man- but I also have more time to do those things now that I’m a stay-at-home mom. It would be easy to blame having a baby for my inability to accomplish. Spending quality time with Drew is important, but I’m awake approximately 16 hours a day. Sixteen hours. That’s like… a lot of minutes to get stuff done. There’s no excuse for there to be any clutter in my house… especially since it makes me nervous. Yes, clutter makes me nervous. I’m a freak and I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is my loss of ambition to be a domestic goddess. There. I said it. Some people want to climb the corporate ladder. Some want power, fame and fortune. I just want to have clean floors, a nice yard, a neat and well-organized house, and the ability to cook a meal that will make me want to slap my own momma. Is it too much to ask?
So, I’m re-motivating myself. I’m remembering the dorky girl who wanted to be Linda Carter. I don’t have the hips for those tight shorts (and shorts is a generous statement), but I’m seeking out my inner Wonder Woman. If only I could find those old Underoos (oh, I had ‘em).
I have no lack of tasks awaiting my attention. First there’s the clutter (oh, the clutter), then floors, and the guest room, and the flower beds, a garden to build and plant, a deck to treat, rooms to paint, recipes to organize, photos to print and frame, doors to fix, a basement to organize, and a bazillion other things to do… none of which I’d be able to accomplish in those boots Linda wore. I think her “Wonder” title was earned by something other than her ability to clean house and cook in that outfit. How about it’s a wonder her lady friends didn’t pop out of that top with all that spinning around in circles and throwing that lasso. I wonder how THAT was.