"Three Men and a Lady - What's the Odds of That?"

H

ey everyone – It’s Friday. With the exception of a slight headache that I get periodically, I have still managed to accomplish the usual Friday morning tasks. Laundry is all done and I am proud to know that I had even took it upon myself, a month ago, to stop the never ending saga of "WHERE'S ALL THE JEANS?" What? You mean you have never heard of this saga? Well, well, my dear readers pull up a chair and sit down as I tell you this glorious tale of how 3 Men and a Lady - fit into one pair Jeans.

Now I will say, that yes,  I was getting rather tired of constantly washing , in a king size washer, two loads of laundry that consisted of 15 pairs of jeans, each, that would suddenly disappear before I even get them out of the dryer.  Even if I had washed them during the day, and had them folded and in three equal piles, I found that when one of my three men in this house went to get his pile, he would skim off the other two that always left the others in the house scrounging for their pair. Now this has been going on for the last two years. It is a blessing and a curse. What do I mean by that you ask? You see, my husband, my two boys, and now myself, all wear the same size jeans...what's the odds of that? However being a good thing on the wallet, it's a bad thing when they are all fighting for their favorite pair. My husband prefers dark boot cut jeans; my oldest son prefers any jeans and will acquire them from the others, when his are dirty and have not made it to the laundry basket. I have caught him in the act, with his extreme quickness, going into their closets or dressers to retrieve them from my husband or younger son, lurking in the shadows, walking swiftly and quietly, and peering around so not to get caught. My youngest son, he likes medium blue in color, but prefers a more standard cut vs. the boot cut dark blue jeans that I buy for my husband and oldest son.

But after a few washing and wearing, something bad happens in this house, all the jeans begin to look alike and soon a bigger issue develops - whose jeans are whose? Another problem we face and I know you will relate to this – We all have that favorite pair that we wear over and over, you know the ones, nicely faded, soft but not to broken in, and the zipper still works. But what happens when those favorite jeans are found on someone else? MADNESS! CHAOS! DRAMA! It starts a war, a big war, and believe you me; there is nothing worse than three men bitching about who has who’s jeans, first thing in the morning. Now I don’t have a clue why my brain had not thought of a solution earlier, maybe I thought it would somehow work itself out, maybe one of them would gain more weight and another would lose weight, but unfortunately that hasn’t happened yet and suddenly I was thinking. If my clue had to be broadcasted on the news this is probably what you'd hear - In the news today, local house wife finally gets a flippin’ clue and stops the jean drama, but the question still remains - Does her blonde hair color really come from a box? More news at 11.  My superbulous idea - Why not put an end to this saga once and for all and put names on the tags inside…BINGO! This Mama got a clue!

 I began with a strategic maneuver that I would like to call the "sniffing them out" approach which involved going into the rooms of my two teen age boys. My younger son, his room is very tidy and he is very good about getting his dirty items into the basket just outside of the bathroom. So I will say I was rather disappointed when I discovered that there were no jeans, clean or dirty, in his room. It was obvious to me that someone else was harboring an excessive amount and I was going to find every pair if it took me an hour. Once I rounded up any pair that didn’t have a man’s body in them, Yes, I know this may sound more on the extra extreme side of things, but a mama has to do, what a mama has to do. I even went as far as not only labeling all jeans in the house, including mine, I did socks and underwear too – That my friends was a feat far too graphic to write about and trust me, a man’s underwear should stay a mystery and be colored not tighty whites. Something about the white cotton briefs, all I can think of is the quote from Forest Gump when we used to have men’s white underwear in the house - "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get" - unless it is boxers with humorous prints on them. Hey I kept it clean - Wink.  All I can say is that if you happen to stumble onto a pair of underwear or socks on your seventeen year old floor, assume they are dirty and leave it at that. I learned the hard way on a pair of sock. OMG! I should have been wearing an instant alert medical device to save me from the toxic exposure. I can still hear it in my head, robot from the old television show “Lost in Space” - “DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER! DANGER!”

I think it was about two weeks before I was able to smell again. Ok, I may have over exaggerated – Smile. It has now been about a month and laundry detail is exceptionally easy. You don’t even have to think, but still it is either my husband or I, that folds the laundry. Even through everything is labeled, once in a great while, someone forgets to get their jeans into the laundry bin. When this happens you know that the jean bandit will strike again and this house is thrown back into the jean drama plague.

So my words of wisdom today – Don’t be a jean thief, always keep your laundry done, and be sure to label all your clothes. Nothing worse than fearing you’re going to have to go to work in shorts, sweats or naked if you’re that behind in your laundry or the jean thief has made his way into your home. Have a FANTASTIC FRIDAY! Blog ya’ll later. 

Put One Foot In Front of The Other...

OK, so a few days ago, I posted my blog about cleaning out our spare bedroom/office. My plan was to do this cleaning project in four stages. However I failed to inform you, that this plan only works in my house during the week days. If I even tried to accomplish a large cleaning project on the weekend, my entire family knows that means I have to be in or be put in a bad mood. What’s that old saying, oh yes I remember, "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." I think that is why my family opts for the happy mom and lets me slack a bit on my progress on the weekend.  Well I am proud to announce that I have started, what I promised, working on this cleaning chaos  that I thought was going to be well planned, easy, simple, never feeling overwhelmed, want to scream, project - not, not, not, not, not, and NOT. As you know, I am easily side tracked. Here is a perfect example; Radio on, washing floors, Cindy Lauper "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" comes on the radio, mop gets put in the bucking, phone gets picked up and two hours later, I am hanging up from a very winded conversation on big hair bands of the 80's. Then I pick up the mop, reheat the water with new floor clean, and attempt it again. Well unfortunately it's been one of those weeks, but I did however, manage to get part of the project done. Many of my distraction were edits needing to be done on my soon to be release book "Deemed Crazy", which is a fictional story...really it is. (Smile). Then our kids needed to be taken here and there for school. (Can't wait to share that blog. An event that was so crazy that I recorded it on my phone so I won't forget any details when I start writing it). I am also getting paper work together to file our newest in VA Claims - I'll be bald soon as it is a hair pulling experience. (Smile). I know, sounds like more excuses, but seriously, being a stay at home mom, means you do all the jobs and then some.

My hope was to get the room clean and get some of the new accessories up. Before I started I went to Home Depot to pick up some new switch plates and outlet covers, Yes a form of self-motivation that I believed would work, and it did a little - A very little. While I was there something bad happened, something I feared - The garden section was screaming and begging for me to wander through. OK, I didn't fear it because I am not afraid of plants; my fear is that I can't say to no to pretty flowers. My youngest son warned me of my lack of will power to say no to the pretty flowers. He was so right. We are now the owners two new plans, one of which is a hibiscus plant. (I'll get back to the bedroom/office progress in a second; see I am side tracked already).

I also got a Boston Fern which I have the ability to get those things to grown to ginormous sizes, so before it gets any bigger, let me provide you with a before photo and then at the end of the summer, I'll provide you with the after photo. All the plant items were 50%, 60%, and 70% off. Normally to buy both of these plants would have sent me back $53.00 + 6% sales tax (Thank you Maryland, please learn to budget better and stop taxing everything). But I got them both for only $15.00. I so love a bargain! OK, so by now you can see, I get distracted pretty easy, unless I am watching the movie Highlander, A Knights Tale, Hunt for Red October, Pretty Woman, or enjoying private time with the honey...OK, OK, TMI! Enough of my ramblings. So You want to know the answer to the the burning question of the day..."Stacey did you get your clutter crap cleaned up yet?" Yes and No.  Below is a picture of my progress on my newest clutter clean up.

I can finally open the closed door. The book shelf is better; it's holding a few books and music binders. As you can see by the next picture, I cleaned my desk off. I got the things off the floor. The stuff on the bed is what was in the closet. I didn't have the kahunas to show you that monstrosity. So, I can say, I got two parts of the four step plan complete. I am hoping that by Monday, I will be able to present you with a room so clean you'll wonder whose house it is. (Smile).  So day by day I am kicked my addiction. What addiction you ask? My addiction to keep things because for some reason years ago, I honestly believed that my things were the only way I could keep my memories. Dumb hua? I seriously thought that.

But after a while, my things were now only keeping bad memories in my mind, as the things made my house look bad, made my family feel bad, and kept our friends away. With the house now in a rapid decluttering state, I feel like a million dollars, but don't have any urge to shop. I also don't feel any connection to the things like I once did. Well unless it is photographs and those types of mementos. But a magazine dated 2007, seriously needs to go. I can clean and say to myself - Do you really want that? Do you really need that? If you keep it, where will it go? Most of the time I don't have to ask myself all three questions as the first one is more than enough. My garbage guys used to hate us, but I can safely say we now have a normal trash pickup. No more mounds of garbage bags pilled in our driveway. We use only two trash cans and that is it. I've come a long way baby. (Smile).  So, again to all my loyal readers and those with your kind words of inspiration, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  Who says you need therapy when I have the whole world to answer too. Thanks everyone for your support and the storage ideas are awesome. When I get enough of those, I am going to put a blog together on everyones suggestions. Well until next time - Blog you later.

 I love this quote and I wanted to share it with you. Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing. ~Phyllis Diller, Phyllis Diller's Housekeeping Hints, 1966

P.S. As you may now know, I have started in a new endeavor to raise money for Gulf War Veterans - One book at a time.  I am asking that you go to the webpage on facebook entitled; "Through the Barracks Window: A Time of Waves", There is no cost to anyone, just the click of the "Like" button is all that I am asking of you and then send the information on to all of your friends and have them do the same, and so on and so on. This will help us advertise our cause without the high costs of advertising companies out there. Again many thanks for your continued support. Until next time, blog ya later.

"Nuclear Energy - Friend and Foe"

http://bu3-ret-staceybolin.blogspot.com/2012/05/nuclear-energy-friend-and-foe.html

"The Red Pills" Innocent UNTIL PROVEN guilty.

http://bu3-ret-staceybolin.blogspot.com/2012/05/innocent-until-proven-guilt-red-pills.html

IS THIS A TEST? IF IT IS...I FAILED!



The bedroom closet door - Check

 Well, once again, I failed at following through with a plan. My plan for Monday turned out to be anything, but what I had my mind set to complete. Even if it were just a few words on my current cleaning status, but the words never found their way from my thoughts to my computer. Let me explain why. On Sunday afternoon, I was so excited to share with you my, small but I'm getting there, accomplishments. I got my new closet door hung earlier in the week; it's what's behind the door that has not been looked at. I got my cooking cabinet in my kitchen cleaned but still needs much organization. I began to declutter my refrigerator, but gave up on all this stuff when the realization finally hit me, we had lost a very dear friend and gave her body to mother earth...I just wanted to sit alone, still and quiet. I don't do death well, never have, and I probably never will. I know it is a part of life, but it's a part that I'd rather not think about.  So I took Sunday to try to get my inspiration back, only to be set back once again when I heard my youngest son say, "Mom my throat hurts badly and there are white patches all over my tonsils." Two words came to my mind instantly...Strep and Contagious. CRAP!

I took him to the local clinic, as I knew this would probably require some type of antibiotic, usually amoxicillin or some large pink horse looking pill that tasted bad. There wasn’t any line and we got right in. The nurse did the usual vitals check and then asked what his symptoms were. She too, after looking at the patches in his mouth, agreed that it looked like strep and proceeds with the quick swab test. Is it strep? Nope. Both the nurse and myself looked at each other in complete disbelief. How in the hell could this thing come up negative, I thought. While my son was speaking to her, I noticed that she wrinkled up her face and then inquired as to how long his breath had been this harsh. Yes I am completely embarrassed that she had to ask him this. All that came to my mind was - why doesn’t he brush his teeth like I tell him too – UGH!  But she didn’t ask him for that reason. Who knew that extremely bad breath is an indicator for worse things to come. Then she proceeds with another test that required a finger prick and small miniature glass tube of blood. He was being tested for Mono. I’d heard of Mono when I was in school, Before you start with the wise cracks, yes the buses had round wheels and no we were not pulled by a team of horse. Before I had time to ask any questions I heard her say – It’s positive. My baby has Mono. DOUBLE CRAP!  We got all the necessary instructions, over the counter pain meds and a low dose of steroids to bring down the inflammation in his tonsils. We now had a culprit as to why he had been feeling so badly lately.

So now, Monday rolls in, but it’s also not like any other day when I am home. It was a holiday for students and there was no school – I totally forgot. Then I was reminded that both boys had appointments with their foot doctor, for what I believed was minor ingrown toe nails that just needed soaking to soften the skin. I was right on the ingrown toe nail, wrong on what would happen next. My youngest son had one ingrown toe nail and my older son, lucky boy, and I mean that most sarcastically, had two. TRIPPLE CRAP!

But the biggest shocker of my day, the doctor decides they were going to undergo their procedures, to correct the problems, that day, as they are sitting there, no need to reschedule, lets just do it.  What I thought was going to be an out of the pocket expense of $200.00, turned into a bill that would be well over $1,000.00 because I didn’t have a referral from their primary care physician – I skipped over the EXTRA TRIPPLE CRAP and went right for a SON OF A B*TCH – and why did I do that, because now I had to call both my insurance and the primary care doctor on a holiday. Is this a test? If it is…I’m failing big time!  After about two hours of calling this person, and that person, and this person again, at 11:07am the procedures began. Thank God I missed the needles and the preparation, because at that point, I was feeling rather nauseous. I’m told I am to remain stress free – YEAH RIGHT! HA-HA. At 11:54pm my younger son walked out of the clinic like a pirate with a wooden leg and my older was walking like a duck. I can just imagine what on lookers must have been thinking – “Poor handicapped kids must be a family disorder.” So after another trip back to the pharmacy for another round of medications, we finally got back to our cluttered home at 1:30pm. They sat in the recliners with their feet up, and I sat and pondered..."What the Fudge am I doing wrong?" If these two kids had listened to me when I told them not to cut their nails short, or put their jacket on or they were going to get sick, my insurance company wouldn't be looking at the claims piling up on their desks this morning and wonder - What in the world, happed to the Bolin family this weekend? Ouch!

So this is what happens when I plan to accomplish something here on the home front – life challenges me, and no matter how cluttered my home gets, the health of my family supersedes a day organizing my closet, or cleaning out my refrigerator. But this is why I have this blog, so that I don’t let these types of days, distract me for more than the two days, OK, OK, weeks to months, to years, as it once did. I have to get back up on my cleaning steed and attack this clutter fight head on. Touché!