I think I might have obsessive compulsive disorder.
Maybe I'm just a control freak.
Who knows.
But I am happy when all is in its place. I am happy when laundry is going and the baskets are empty. I am happy when the bathroom rugs are straight and when the counters are wiped off. I am happy when the curtains are open to let in the sun and the pillows are lined up on the couch. I am happy when bills are paid on Tuesdays and errands are run on Saturdays. Sometimes I even reconfigure the drying dishes so that they look nicer…as they dry.
I told you I was a control freak.
I think it's because of my Mom.
Anyway…
I happened upon this poem:
“Cleaning and scrubbing will wait 'till tomorrow,
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs! Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby. Babies don't keep”
– Ruth Hamilton
…and then I told myself to loosen my buttcheeks. Dirty laundry, unmade beds, hairy floors and all.
The end.
Mom
I just took a break from rearranging my kitchen cupboards for the tenth time this morning (hundred millionth in my married life) to make sure they are just right–organized, convenient, things next to the stove that need to be, non-intrusive, easily cleaned, enough room for newly washed dishes to dry, jars of whole foods nicely displayed and handy, clean towels hung, the smell of freshly bleached countertops in the air (sorry I know you don’t like that–I just can’t do the whole vinegar thing) to sit down and read your blog…I don’t know where you get it from– Love your mother 🙂 By the way it all started from finding a cool old crock in the barn to hold my cooking utensils! Score!