Moxieclean

2010-09-26T16:08:00.000-07:00

I'm out of excuses, and not ready to confess that I just don't like being online much, except to hack into innocent people's accounts of course, so I need to stretch my promise a wee bit thinner. Moxie's undergoing a little makeover. It will be worth it...

Saturday, Hold the Mania

2010-09-18T01:16:00.000-07:00

Manic Cleaning Saturday has been canceled this week while we mourn the one year anniversary of Sidney Josephine, Debe's baby daughter who was lost and born still, and for whom many hearts still ache. This is an unconscionably difficult marker of time for a mother with empty arms.

Debe received the Super Sized Deluxe Douche Bag Snub when her daughter died, by the infamous maggots squirming in hatred in our community, and received virtually no support, because she is my friend. Nevertheless, she is an amazing, dynamic woman, truly one in bazillion, and many have adopted her into a genuine loving core of people who are holding her up, sharing her grief, and we are dedicating these few days to remembering Sidney, how real and wanted she was, crying for her absence, and eating a lot of sugar.

I did clean Debe's house while she was out today, so it's fair to say you can't take the Moxie out of the girl, but it sure puts clutter and smudges in perspective.

Please cast your cleaning stress aside, if only for a moment, and send a thought to this mama, so dear to many, and the baby girl who will live forever in her heart, but tragically, not among us. Debe wants everyone to squeeze your kids, and to remember that evil has no place in motherhood.

In the midst of grief, I must express my immense pride in the strength of this woman, despite being surrounded so much poison, for being a wonderful mama to her son Sorren (three), a stellar friend, and inarguably the most hilarious human being on earth.

Our hats are off to you, our hearts are with you, and our memories will forever include your precious Sidney.

Saturday Spotlight: 500 Things

2010-09-11T00:58:00.000-07:00

My dearest Dana and I have an inside understanding (dysfunction) known as "500 things." These things are very real, very individual, and very much inspire us to do anything else. And I mean anything. Now these things are non-negotiable, such as: Register the kids for school, and Dana has been known to have a yard sale or lay a patio instead.

We all procrastinate. In my experience, the number one victim of neglect amongst my peers is ...wait for it... cleaning. Surprised? Me neither.

You all know I can clean all day long. In fact it's usually stopping that creates a problem, but no matter the satisfaction I derive from sparkling digs, the "500 things" are always looming. I operate in myriad modes. By rote, Post-Its, Post-Its on Post-Its, lists on beautiful paper with retro birds, napkins, my hand, and then the things that need no writing, such as break down the refrigerator box on the porch which prevents both entrance as well as exit. I will dodge all of these as long as possible, and in the interest of solidarity with Dana, and relating to my mamas who feel bad for avoiding cleaning like H1N1, I decided to post my Master List, the most urgent tasks, those which are virtually unrecognizable (and inaudible) under the dust.

Even Reilly has her own delay tactics. (Like mama like baby.)

The following drudgery originates from my "Massive OMG To Do List!" And I've listed the corresponding chores into whose comforting bosom I fled in order to deny them.

-Go to the bank = Clean some else's five story all wood house.

-Shop for a 13 year old's birthday gift for Reilly = Sort and toss ALL of our candles.

-Paint dresser = Scrub 17 (not kidding) shampoo/conditioner bottles, tension rod, etc.

-Call Chemeketa = Climb onto the refrigerator to kick some dust ass and align caddies.

-Call insurance company = Lose my list inside a magazine.

-Put the KROC Center key fab thing on my key chain = Gut our entire school inventory.

-Arrange portraits for the kids = Wash and bleach all waste baskets in the world.

-Call three different friends to get kids together = Getting rid of SO MANY CLOTHES.

-Call anyone = Have a garage sale.

-Call in two refills = Have another garage sale.

-Shop for knobs = Get Reilly's hair cut.

-Return sheets = Get Quinn's hair cut.

-Learn photoshop = Scrub the kitchen floor with bleach on my hands and knees.

-Make the one phone call that will land $2,000 in my hands = Rearrange laundry room.

-Send my new phone in for a new phone = Drink six gallons of bleach.

-Literally, look in my DVD folder for Howard's End (two seconds) = Helping others go through old clothes and delivering bags of hand-me-downs to others, even douche bags, just don't ask me to touch the folder.

I have practical freeze and cleaning default.

Dana and I are curious as to the absurd lengths y'all go to to avoid ________________.

Share and share alike.

Knock Knock...Who's There? It's Moxie!

2010-08-29T01:18:00.000-07:00

Still fighting some vertigo from the endless loop-the-loops yesterday, I decided to sneak in on Dbro and make sure she wasn't giving in to any loopholes on the weekend cleaning code. And to see if the coffee was brewing.

I am proud to report she passed with flying colours. This is not without a price however, because I instantly felt that my own house was crawling with scabies. I'd planned to do little things to sabotage her throughout the day but she presented me with an epic FAIL all on her own. Stay tuned!

What would you do if I came knocking on your door one upcoming weekend? (I like espresso with water and milk, iced or tepid.)

First of all, I resent that Debe is the minimalist I want to be. Her retail addiction pummels mine, and yet, her house is deliciously sparse, and she has an innate knack for positioning things that...I'm not gonna lie...makes me hate her a little.

Sorren's entertainment wall:

Convenient toy rest stop, and the last green corduroy papasan chair in Target. Bitch:

Bleach still my heart. (Shut up, my brain is still in centrifugal force...)

A clean kitchen means the better to feed me with!

Cleanliness + ambiance = WIN:

Going to Fred Meyer trusting the ambiance to behave, WAXY FAIL:

Obviously I burst out laughing, since it was the most inappropriate thing I could do. She tried to see the spontaneous artistic flare of it and considered leaving it, which lasted 4.3 seconds and then she was scraping her hands into the Carpal Tunnel Hall of Fame. I couldn't deduct points for this because I didn't blow it out either, and I was the one who took forever. (What, I was christmas shopping in August--it is so brilliant I am beside myself.)

You get an A+ jerkface. Keep it up. Just find a new place for your gum, and lose the KIT-tens.

Look and learn folks! You can do it too.

Grrr...age Sale

2010-08-21T22:13:00.001-07:00

This weekend, the part of Manic Saturday is being played by our annual garage sale. I love me some serious gutting of our humble dwelling, and have been known to practically take the shirts off my loved ones' backs to rid of us the oppression of consumerism, but when it comes to the actual sale, I freeze. Much like Shel Siverstein's Little Peggy Ann McKay, I cannot have a garage sale today. Mind you, this is an annual tradition, going on 12 years, and I am the garage sale boss, no joke. But the anticipation cripples me. I set a record this year by postponing it for seven consecutive weeks. Alas, the light at the end of summer's proverbial tunnel is dimming, and it was time.

This is our last sale, and there was no more clinging to objets de'sentiment, like the sweet but crazy-making odds and ends my father collected in his eccentric life of 51 years. This was all-out. These things have been evicted. Whatever is left tomorrow will be the feast of freecycle, and I will rejoice, at long last, at a garage that can accommodate both vehicles. This has been our simple dream since we've lived here, but my shameless addiction to retail consumption and my children's stubborn, constant growth has been an insurmountable obstacle until now. This is the year, and it feels amazing.

Less clutter inside, clean garage, and money to celebrate it all. Now that's cleaning up!

Reilly cleaned out plenty of pockets with this sweet little racket:

In the interest of honesty, I will confess to rescuing this trinket from a life of unappreciated obscurity, as it truly typifies my dad's whimsy as a collector, and makes me think of him. I opted for this over the more valuable antiques, and if you know me, you'll understand why.

Saturday Sound Off

2010-08-14T10:53:00.000-07:00

From a dear Moxling who is exasperated by the enormity and futility of trying to stay ahead of a toddler:

"...Therein lies my problem...I got nothin'. I have no idea where to begin. I can maintain the bathroom and the kitchen (for the most part anyway) but the bedroom looks like a wreck and the living room is like "the dump zone" or something.

I don't know if I need a schedule with minimums on it (Like, if nothing else do XYZ) or a list of chores that can be done in certain time increments (If you have 5 mins you can do X, 10 mins you can do Y, 20 mins...etc...) or just to take a weekend and throw a bunch of shit out and downsize (fewer things equals less clutter right?) I see all the neat things that you buy (the organizers and stuff) and think "ooh I want some" but then I think "What would I put in them??? WHERE would I put them?" We don't have a lot of space (our apt is a little over 1000 sq ft) and we can't properly utilize the drawer space that we have because F. just pulls things out. There are literally 10 drawers/cabinets in this place that are kept empty because F. just empties them anyway."

Ah, Grasshoppa, dis what you do...

Okay. This pretty much captures the essence of every email and S.O.S. I get. How to maintain EVERYTHING. Also known as the entire house. While it is possible, and very rewarding, and something you're apt to find me doing, for most people it a) causes endless anxiety unless you have 99 arms, b) is an unreasonable goal (due to jobs, being pregnant, time/health constraints, c) and because the very notion makes people want to punch themselves in the throat. Likewise, the idea of maintenance is also daunting because it connotes images of basically cleaning constantly. And even I don't want to do that! Obviously, different systems suit different families, and quite often, a combination of systems is best.

All of your examples were excellent. Personally, though, I wouldn't necessarily give a list of tasks that can be completed in five or ten minutes because there are always variables, so the risk of rushing, having to leave things incomplete, or running late to finish that last part. However, setting a timer for five or ten or twenty (and so on) minutes in each room, or select rooms, at any point, and just tackling what you can, is always a great supplement to your over all routine.

Speaking of routine, you need one! First, your house is not dirty, it's messy. Thank God for that. The carpet beneath your scattered laundry and toys is clean, your counters are not encrusted with days-old spaghetti sauce, and your bed has all its bedding and is cute and one minute away from being made. You just gotta make it!

Since I know your limitations, challenges, and stresses the best, I'll just speak right to you, but know that many many friends/readers are in the same sitch, and I hope they cough up some helpful hints, despite the fact that I had to blow dust off this blog. Bah! Come on people!

I have a general routine, basic principles, the supplements when I find myself with an extra hour approximately once in a blue moon. And I will cheer, and even do the wave, for anyone who spends a weekend gutting their shit. That is amazing.

My general routine is to make up my bedding as soon as my feet touch the floor. I've seen your bed, you can do this. This creates a soothing visual, and potential surface for laundry that has been folded from the Pack 'n Play, lol. (Brilliant I say!) I have a tendency to gather/wipe/straighten as I walk, every time I cross the house. Most of you don't. But, you'd be surprised at how getting used to a nice made bed will prompt you to swipe up Stefan's t-shirts and underwear (?) off the floor to make it that much nicer. (Wait. He's military, does he sully his barracks like that?) Next is that ominous catch-all, the dresser! Obviously dishes and trash demand immediate removal. Clothing is irritating but try to get it off there too. As for the knick knack paddywhack nightmare: If you can't sort through it right away, just put it all in a stack or tray, and wipe the dresser down.

MOXIE TENET: Clean surfaces!

Finally, take a damp cloth or duster to the walls, corners, hanging photographs, and when that's done, vacuum. Voila. You now have one clean, peaceful space. The keys to keeping it on track are to stop tossing things about, keep the bed made, and never let F. in again!

By the time I use the bathroom in morning, I've made my bed, picked up 17 things, started the coffee, loaded the dishwasher, taken out trash, gotten the washing machine going, and generally shake out bath mats (into the shower) and wipe down the sink/faucet/chrome/mirrors. But these things take 10 extra seconds, really!

You say you maintain the kitchen and bathroom(s). That is amazing. The two most important areas by far. Also, the pics of your kitchen, that is a 10 minute job at the most, including sweeping. One of your barriers, like so many others, could be eased by remembering this:

MOXIE TENET: Do not say you have to "Clean the house!"

Who wants to clean an entire house? But cleaning a room, surface, or folding one truckload of laundry, is entirely possible.

My place isn't much bigger than yours, but all my drawers are carrying more than their share, and as you said, caddies/organizers galore. We need to overcome Hurricane Baby so that you can utilize all the space you have.

I remember a child-proofing thread from fb but can't remember the problem. You need to use those drawers. He is old enough to start telling no, though it will take time, and since you're skipping the whips, may take even more time. But patterns are established by repetition.

Your assignment is to re-claim your drawers.

Basically, I need my house to be clean. Even if it's cluttered, cleanliness is next to sane-li-ness, I know you know this.

*CLEAN* This encompasses wiping, dusting, scrubbing, sweeping, spraying.

*CLEAR SURFACES* Keeping those fucking islands and jutting counters from being strewn with debris that seems to belong nowhere is paramount. Surfaces are an aesthetic illusion that will comfort you when other areas have been victimized by Baby.

*DE-CLUTTER* This can always be one small area (the dresser), one dreaded area (the counter), a surprise area (a shelf or drawer), etc. You can plan these or attack random targets when you get all those AMAZING bursts of energy that pregnant mamas
of toddlers whose husbands' supervisors are slave driving assholes are so prone to having! :(

*GET RID OF IT* I am a huge fan of throwing things out. If it's junk, it's junk. If you haven't fixed it by now, you won't. It's causing you stress now, so forget that you spent $19.99 on it. You aren't likely to have a yard sale in an apartment so for things that are usable but not to you, keep a bin on your dryer, and when it's full, take it to a women's shelter, your sister-in-law, etc. NOT THE GOODWILL. Again you can toss junk any time or set a timer to see how much you can get. And devoting a weekend is pure bliss.

*DO IT NOW* This one seems tricky because people think it means clean 'round the clock, but it doesn't. If I'm brushing my teeth and see smudges on the mirror, I go get the Windex. This always leads to clean mirrors chrome and inside windows throughout the house. Five minutes. Dead serious. Waiting = stress. Do it now = Ugh, but worth it!

For you, there has to be a way to keep F out of the drawers and the wicker bins in your living room. This has to happen.

TIPS FOR A TIRED MAMA:

-Make a general OR daily list of priorities and chip away at them as you can. Or ambush them, whenever possible.

-Commercial breaks! Don't feel guilty if you watch Oprah, but grab an armful of laundry to fold while you watch. Then put it on your nice made bed during commercials, and repeat. You can probably fold it all by the time she shuts her stupid mouth. :) And no going to bed without putting your clothes away! I'm not typing this in 95 degrees so those clothes end up on the floor!

-Clean where you sit. If you're at the computer, organize your papers, pens, wipe down the desk, lamp, etc. Same for the couch. Straighten cushions, throw pillows, grab whatever you can reach and fold/toss/____ it.

-The walk through. Do something every time you walk across your house. Anything. Preferably multiple anythings. Swipe some dust, pick up some debris, a sippy cup, a shoe, a magazine...

-Challenges. You can blast your music and challenge yourself to get one room done, or a little in each room, in 20 minutes or an hour, whatever works at the moment, or you can have Stefan, a friend, or me do it. And then do it. I love challenges. I take medication.

You just need to understand that you are not dealing with filth. You're dealing with mess, a toddler, increasing fatigue and anxiety, and repetition burn-out. All understandable. All can be helped. Your house is one hour away from being exactly how you want it. You may not have an hour, but it's not the cesspool you think it is. Take your drawers back from F. Do a little at a time. Stop thinking about the entire house. Make the most of your movements, where you are, your time, and your energy. Minimize. Set five-to-ten things each day that you must do, starting with making that bed. Also, if vacuuming each night makes the list (Oh Stefannnnn!), that will require the clearance to do so--bonus! Realize cloth diapers on his dresser are not dirt. Put a bin on your dryer. Even if roller skates and visors and a half a pack pens sit in it for a year, you won't have to look at them anymore. Throw rugs = stain concealer and pick-me-up, provided you don't have more than ... three. Lastly, stop being so hard on yourself! You do more than you think, and it's not as bad as you think. Start familiarizing F with "no," and start familiarizing Stefan with "Honey I'm growing our child, please vacuum, kthanks."

If anyone else gleaned anything from this, fabulous, get cracking. For those who relate to Kasondra's predicament, and have words of wisdom, please pass them along to me so that I can tell her and get all the credit.

Slowly Saturday

2010-07-31T12:57:00.000-07:00

Even the truly Moxie-less ought to be able to run with today's challenges.

Simple:

Do five, FIVE, things in each room/nook of your home.

First I put the washing machine to work. I wipe the washer and dryer down with wipes, after de-cluttering the inevitable crap that nests atop them, especially the dryer. You can sweep the floor/mats, wash mats, put away any hanging clothes, sort clothes, especially whites awaiting their bleach bath.

After this, I always start in the kitchen, go straight to dishes, then wiping up sink/counter, then floors, then garbage. Surely you can get under those canisters, wipe down the refrigerator, or straighten your counter top so you can bounce a quarter off of it.

If you feel like staying in the trenches, you'll head to the bathroom, but if you're working room-to-room, you'll likely end up in the living room. For bathrooms, spray/scatter/apply cleaning agent of choice to sinks, tubs, and toilets. Put bath mats in the laundry, sweep the floor, scrub out sink, wiping it with a dry washcloth afterward, especially the chrome. Next is the tub/shower, and then the toilet. Hang fresh towels, maybe light some non-patchouli incense (haha Dana) and voila. For those of you with excessive make-up/product-on-the-counter issues, challenge yourself to do that later, preferably by putting all of it onto the hallway floor.

Living rooms are a simple formula: Round up garbage, dishes, call on kids for toy removal, fold blankets, clear/wipe/ end tables, straighten throw pillows, everything off the floor, dust, and hopefully vacuum.

Obviously you cannot just vacuum the living room. So either keep going into hallways (steering around your make-up heap) and bedrooms, or leave your trusty steed upright and waiting for you to clear more space in the...

BEDROOMS: Have kids clean and sort what they can, strip beds (committed!), toss things behind their backs, dust, re-make beds, and vacuum. Same formula in master bedrooms, minus the toys, er, um...

Miscellaneous: WINDEX, I can't stress it enough. When you see watermarks on your bathroom mirrors, grab it, and don't stop until you've gotten all visible interior windows (five minutes people, really), mirrors, chrome fixtures, and media screens. Caution: With TV and computer screens, don't spray the Windex directly onto the surface. Spray it onto your paper towel, and then clean it. No one likes to anticipate "cleaning all the mirrors and windows," but once you grab that spray bottle, you're like the sheriff. It's one of my favourite pick-me-ups. I am decidedly less enamoured of cleaning the external windows. O_o

Dusting. Five minutes, from one end to the other. Very lightly damp rag preferred.

Clutter! Kill it! Maim it! Curse it! Burn it! It is the bane of cleaning and life in general.

For those of you who share the irrepressible urge let's call it, I probably don't have to direct you to the baseboards and cords, nor to the car! I heart my Shop-Vac, but I discovered the other night that in a pinch, you can lint roll your car to a pine needle-less, hairless, whatever-less heaven.

If you get a fraction of this done this weekend, you will be ever-so-happy. More importantly, I will be. Let me know what went down, and if all you've got are excuses (or reasons), let the throwdown begin. I enjoy all your input, and thank everyone who has called this week to ... well, you know.

Tuesday Triage Try for Triumph

2010-07-27T20:11:00.000-07:00

1 cup black eye half swollen shut.

1 cup 102 degree fever.

10 gallons fresh squeezed fatigue.

1 9-hour nap.

1 pckg. salted trip to the ER at 2am, stir immediately and continuously.

1 pinch of accidental needle the size of PVC pipe for labs and an IV.

1 one pound bag of X-ray.

1 tbsp. unexpected diagnosis.

5 litres not enough sleep.

Sift ingredients.

Bake for 2.5 hours (the sleep). Finished product should yield one seriously hot mess, sore to the touch, eyes slightly singed, and involuntarily averted from cleaning.

Letting this stiff and worthless entree to settle will only serve to ensure that nothing ever gets done in the house again. Thus, immediate and drastic measures must be taken and followed closely to avoid domestic apocalypse.

The key is to KEEP STIRRING or it will harden.

Next, get out the following ingredients-

This will produce a liquid that allows the concoction to rise:

These are set to ensure movement:

Pour concoction from bowl and observe. Add 3 gallons music. (Not optional.)

If you've followed the recipe exactly, the result should look like this:

If that works, blend the mess with this:

It should look like this:

Continue to fold the following ingredients in to taste:

(This is extra spicy, mix with caution.)

If your product holds up, continue with this, for presentation:

Much better, no?

If your recipe withstood all these steps, then you clearly used a dash of Moxie Clean.

(Disclaimer* This entire post is utterly gay. [Vicodin])

Saturday Splendor, Mania a la Carte

2010-07-24T10:00:00.000-07:00

Operation: MOVE EVERYONE OUT AND INTO HIS/HER OWN ROOM is complete, and we did a damned fine job, even by Moxie standards. I have to tip my hat to Todd, who tackled the two things I despise: Shampooing the every inch of carpet in the house, and disassembling the fucking bunk beds, which nearly killed me. (See yesterday's post for a more detailed description of the various debacles and triumphs of the move.) I was amped up and then some, Mach 10 at least. 9am-1am of straight ass-kicking labour, interspersed with deep cleaning, when I got pinned into the kitchen by mattresses and trapped elsewhere by assorted furniture, sailing through the house like flotsam waiting to be washed ashore.

In between breaking my neck thinking I could take the beds apart by sitting on the bottom and pushing the top one off with my head, which nearly caved in, taking the hinges off every door, moving three beds, dressers, 2,489 lb. Rubbermaid Lego drawers, and making peace with this sectional, which is one c***sucking inch too long to fit snugly and thus, takes up the entire living room. I pouted about this like a recalcitrant child, refusing to acknowledge it, and scoffing at all reason.

"So what if it comes out a foot farther? What were you going to do in this living room, play Twister?" Debe asked. This made total sense and I got over it. Well, like 75% over it.

So in the midst of this consumerism implosion, I managed to:

-Wash EVERYTHING washable in the entire house, including bleaching all whites, clothes to be consigned, clothes to hand down, ALL bedding, EVERY blanket, coats, stuffed animals, bedding to be stored, purses and backpacks for the garage sale, and BATH MATS. (!!!)

-Bleach sinks.

-Keep all dishes washed.

-Gather and curse four MILLION bobby pins. These can be found in the hinge of the dryer, all of Reilly's pockets, my pockets, on every surface, on the porch, in the sink, but absolutely NEVER fucking in your purse when you desperately need one. Never.

-Same with hair bands.

-Windexed mirrors and windows.

-Emptied garbage and all wastebaskets in addition to the three garbage bags we filled and tossed. This is the most amazing thing ever.

-Dusted everything that was relocating, which was everything.

-Organize main bookshelf.

-Wipe down floor lamps.

-Hang clean hand towels in kitchen and bathroom.

-Sweep and sweep and sweep and sweep...and sweep.

-Tidy up garage sale heap to be carried out.

-Did not throw a string onto the passenger floor of Debe's new car.

-Scrubbed back bathroom, hands and knees, baseboard, toilet, tile, the works.

-Put all my clothes away, and continued to wonder how in the hell I have so many. I'm a shameless clothes whore, what can I say? Better than being a regular whore. I'd rather have a packed closet than HPV, I'm just sayin' Andi.

But moving was the star of the show, and as promised, here are some pictures of our efforts. They're a bit grainy, for which I apologize. They were taken by the overrated iPhone, and several of them at night, and Quinn's quilt is crooked (UGH!), but hopefully you'll leap to your feet and clap until your hands are numb.

BEFORE, where the kids have been inextricably trapped together for 10 years (though we co-slept for nine years):

Todd shampooing under Reilly's bed (joy of joys!):

Bunk bed on its side. This was one of those things where Todd just says "Go, and don't talk," lol. Only it wasn't funny. Plus the kids switched beds and wanted them on the impossible walls. And Papa delivered. :)

Quinn on a break with a random mattress hanging around:

Reilly's "stuffed-ie" condo, hanging on the bathroom door, which was off its hinges. It was like Alice in Wonderland:

Gutted like a fish:

A rough shot of REILLY'S ROOM, at long last:

Quinn's oasis, where he can read and grow endlessly:

Not a great shot, but I sorted his precious books, and he was so pleased:

And there you (mostly) have it. There were some injuries, such as cutting my foot, Quinn's ever-growing wingspan flying and his nail slicing my ear, which bled, but I soldiered on. I also mentioned breaking my skull trying to separate the bunk beds with my head. Debe pulled a muscle in her shoulder moving the hide-a-bed part of the sectional, and I may have tossed Bella off the new couch in such a way as to make her body contort into something of a Slinky for just a second. I always forget how small and bendy she is. So moving is not without its hazards, but it is all worth it, and I highly recommended. It presents opportunities to clean you never expected. And you should be delighted by this.

Having gone to bed at 4:00am, I told myself, "Self, you are sleeping until at least 8:00am or I will kick your ass." What can I say, I'm a rebel. 6:42am. I'm already eating lunch, and have to get ready to go to work and hopefully get back in time to take the kids to the pool. They so deserve it.

Then to the hacienda to deal with bobby pins, vacuum my car, and bleach the bath tub.

If this doesn't inspire you to do something, then I cut my ear for nothing!

Friday in the Fast Lane!!!

2010-07-23T14:52:00.000-07:00

It began innocently enough. I bought a sectional sofa because a knot in the wood of our super amazing and comfy couch and love seat had caused fractures in the structure.

It was delivered this morning.

Thus far, we have accomplished these things today (1 o'clock):

-Todd shampooed the ENTIRE house yesterday. There are no words to convey my bliss.

-Put the old set out to pasture, listed it on craigslist, and someone is coming for it at 4 o'clock. I'm sad to see it go. My kids grew up with this set, and it is SO clean.

-Hauled and heaved four pieces of awkward trapezoidal sectional into the house, after removing the door, cutting my foot, and making me regret not staying in Mexico under that palapa.

-Dirt Deviled the ever-loving shit out of the sectional.

-Began voting various pieces of furniture off the island.

-Washed ALL bedding in the house, in anticipation of setting up the kids' rooms.

-Folded all laundry.

-Bleached kitchen sinks.

-Stopped to drink the mango smoothies (yes plural smoothies) Debe made out of our aging mangos. OMG. Win. (Tip: We got these on Silverton Rd. at a little stand and all 50+ have been amazing.)

-Cleaned the refrigerator.

-Sorted the kids' books. Got rid of a lot, but Quinn wouldn't let go of their childhood books, which was really sweet.

-Culled yet more outgrown clothes from both kids' dressers. Quinn gives things up freely whereas Reilly is convinced there will come an opportunity to wear the GAP 18 mos. khaki shorts she has had since she was ... 18 months. So I have to be somewhat of a bandit with her stuff.

-Constantly setting things aside for our garage sale. There are precarious stacks everywhere.

-Cleaned out all the drawers in the back vanity, like every little clear hair band and those plastic things that stores use a tag gun to attach the price tags. Those are a bitch to scrape out of a drawer let me tell you. Sharing my space with Quinn and Reilly is also a picnic, thought it's sometimes fun.

-The computer guy is here wiping our hard drive.

-I dried Reilly's 10 mile hair when I was SO hot and sweaty from scrubbing the back bathroom on my hands and knees.

-Scrubbed back bathroom on hands and knees.

-Washed all bath mats.

-Gathered two bags for the garage sale, to go with the 82936385 bags already in a rejected huddle.

-Went through the kids' art work. (!!!)

-Sorted consignment-worthy clothes from give-away.

-Scrubbed my ottomans hardcore.

-Dusted like a madman. EVERYWHERE.

-Delegated serious shit. I am a genius.

-Hung consignment clothes with perfect creases.

-Yanked the mattresses off the bunk beds and put them wherever. Nothing can stop me now.

-Just sold the old couch and love seat. Felt emotional.

-Sat on the bottom bunk and lifted the top bunk off of it, balancing it on my head like some tribal woman schlepping water in a basket, only 7,000,000 times bigger, heavier, more awkward, and African women are beautiful and I am, well ... smart?

-Did a bleach load.

-Hid these two really scratchy fucked up blankets my mom got the kids years ago (from Hell, one can only assume). They LOVE them, and I hate them, and we have blankets like The Bible has locusts so I put one icky blanket in each red ottoman. I'd feel bad throwing them out because they do love 'em, but I need a break from their scritchy-ness. Win.

-Rotated bedding. Thank God OCD means saving all those plastic zip bags that comforters come in.

-Pretend to be invisible as Todd moves Quinn's bed into his room, which happens to be literally physically impossible, yet he is doing it. It is best not to jinx it by saying "good job" or breathe.

-Packed up all Quinn's books, magazines, art, stuffed animals, toys, and prepping his 46 Rubbermaid storage drawers full of Legos, planted like so many squatters throughout the house, for the move into HIS space--(A-beeping-men!)

To do:

-Everything else. Like:

-Vacuum his carpet.

-Get his bed in his room.

-Make his bed.

-Move his dresser in.

-Move aforementioned Legos. Good riddance!

-Set up bookshelves.

-Rearrange some things in the garage. This is slightly less pleasant than having your fingernail plucked out, because Todd will get medieval on your ass over that garage, no joke. If there is any unused space, he will cast the eye of shame upon you.

-Shampoo Reilly's room, which he waited to do until Quinn's things were out.

-Make her bed.

-Organize her stuffedies. Again, just pluck a nail.

-Drain bleached sinks and do the few dishes so we can enjoy our take-out tonight.

-(I am SERIOUSLY not looking at Todd right now--EEK!)

-Re-hang everyone's posters, calendars, bulletin boards, coat racks, and weird miscellaneous things kids need on their walls because I want everyone settled TONIGHT!

-Update my iPod after Debe download hella bad-ass new music. The Beatles are getting me through this enormous, grandiose, nigh impossible endeavor to which I've committed five unsuspecting people.

-Threaten to choke Debe if she spends one more second looking at kittens with Reilly online.

-Stash things for the apartment in the Jeep.

-Keep moving things out no matter what, and clean every surface that is cleared.

-Figure out how the hell a papasan chair gets lost, find it, and figure out who gets it.

-Gather/sort/clean the debris that gets flung aside during this, the transition phase of serious transition.

-Hope and pray there isn't that ONE THING that renders my entire mission impossible.

(Like getting his bed out and in...deep breaths.)

-Post pics when it's all done.

-Shower.

-Eat like a motherfucker.

-Get really drunk. You'll drink to that once you see the pictures. Plus the piña colada mix has been calling.

Okay okay, don't stop moving, go go go! Eye of the tiger and all that shit.

Stupid Sedentary Saturday

2010-07-17T00:29:00.000-07:00

Sigh.

I have no choice but to live vicariously through all of your thrilling cleaning excursions right now, so don't let me down. I want to hear of dust pleading for its life, of landslide laundry victories, of unexpected sojourns in a random and scary cupboard, and I CERTAINLY want you to know that my stupid body holds no truck for pain and that I did in fact kick my house's ass all over the place two days ago, in a frenzy the likes of which I can't even recall.

What could motivate a cripple, stewing in my own OCD fury, in 100 degrees, to grab my Sonic Scrubber (I LOVE YOU DYAN!) and scour L-I-T-E-R-A-L-L-Y every surface in the house, reachable or not? I'll tell you.

You may have gathered that being confined is as tolerable to me as ... well, it isn't tolerable. I have a crazy high pain threshold and have busted stitches post-op, thinking, "If I can endure it, I can do it." Aren't I an idiot? But when the actual pain dictates my mobility, and leaves me with virtually none, I am ferocious. Every speck of dirt is a boulder, the dog is clearly a carrier of thousands of parasites, everything is crooked. It sucks. So I was in the most cheerful of summertime spirits and got into an argument with Todd, who was so devoted to hearing my complex argument for being right that he went outside to do his garden whispering thing. Naturally, I followed him out. I can handle many responses, but indifference is not to be borne. Yet this is his default mode. In case you didn't know, this equals me yelling across the patio about the all-important PRINCIPLE, something I believe Y-chromosomes don't always comprehend nor appreciate with the same passion as women. Or he was just done arguing...I was upset that Reilly hadn't completed her chore list before her appointment, and of his stand-by responses, he chose "Mag, it's not the end of the world." Oh Lord. Don't ever say this to me. During the life lesson I felt compelled, yet again, to impart to him, there was a baby crying next door. After 20 minutes or so, it really felt like the baby had been crying too long, but who goes over to their sweet 70+ year old neighbour Bev, who has several grown children and grandchildren to inquire as to a crying baby. After about 10 more minutes, Todd and I looked at each other sharing an intuition that we needed to do more than yell over this baby. He peeked into her driveway to discover the ubiquitous Dodge Ram belonging to her son, and his 18 month old son in the back seat, alone, screaming. Our hearts raced. I was some couch urchin, so he raced over. He poked his head into the truck and said "It's okay baby, they're coming!" He pounded on Bev's door, and her grandson answered. He is a very nice young man. Todd said "You need to get your baby man!" And the guy's face turned white. It seems they had pulled up while Baby was sleeping, meant to be inside for a couple minutes, and time got away, and they didn't hear him. OMG. Totally innocent. But we could not get over seeing that poor little curly-headed boy crying in the blazing heat for his parents. He was okay, they thanked Todd profusely, and got their son out. Todd and I immediately shared a relief for that baby and for the safety of our own kids, which begat an unspoken halt to the argument, and hugs for the kids, who were also sad for that baby. "What if you hadn't been out there?" "What if you had been too shy to look?" My adrenaline was pumping so hard all I could do was scrub every millimeter of the house. I couldn't help it. What if what if what if = the bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz of my Scrubber, and a house too legit to quit.

So today, while I may not be manic, I have done the work, and I still want to hear what you did, and how you get motivated and/or stay motivated. Lethargy and quitting are looming large for some Moxlings, and we mustn't succumb to the elements or to dust! (Right Gail?)

Kiss your babies, and grab one of these. I swear to the almighty that this will MAKE you want to clean:

LOOK!

Manic Malaise

2010-07-10T13:31:00.000-07:00

OCD + bed rest = How the hell would I know?

I fail at bed rest.

Within two hours I'm convinced I have bed sores and that cobwebs have taken over every corner in sight. Not to mention all the things that turn askew, and just beyond my reach. UGH!

Should any of you find yourselves confined to rest (nasty-tasting word) for longer than a day, and don't die from boredom nor dust invasion, here are some things you can do that will not raise the ire of those supervising you to make sure you don't slip away, only to be discovered later on a ladder outside hosing out the gutters. (Shhh...)

Kick things off with an elaborate list, on fancy paper, and lots of swirls, using every Sharpie you own, and compile an assortment of tasks you could never even finish if you were on steroids and lived to be 105. I'm hopelessly listy:

Everyone's favourite, and even bed resters don't get a break:

Sewing/mending/putting buttons back on counts as cleaning because doing it creates space on the vanity, where it has been for so long these shorts probably don't even fit Quinn anymore:

Rooting in purse guts and try to figure out why the fuck it weighs 800 lbs., remove two pens and a business card and hope that lightens the load by 30%. Also, on the left are my planner/brain-in-a-notebook, kind of like a bed-in-a-bag. I had the unique pleasure of sorting that bitch, consolidating 389479457 lists, tossing lists (the best!), trying not to rip the plastic cover while fishing a giant, unsightly surgical bandage from the front of my notebook, where my bad-ass political stickers are supposed to dominate. Oooh, and calling Verizon with a host of issues. Can it ever be easy? This task alone prompted me to volunteer for six days of unconsciousness. Finally, some medical records that don't fit in the mini notebook. Hm. I lay on the floor in my underwear staring at this hideous mess of glorious treasures, like a difficult Scrabble board, and then I pounce and sort, crumple, stuff, and shred, and voila! A clean purse two pounds lighter. (The key is POUCHES within the notebook!):

Frosting the cupcakes Reilly made for her friend Lisa, because she was in a hurry. (Is she ever not?) I got ONE cupcake out of the bargain, but that's because she wanted to give exactly 25, lol:

Serious violation, even though I didn't get in. We didn't stay long because Quinn grew out of his trunks and couldn't swim. We had just come from the doctor, where she said he is off the charts height wise and has the physical maturity of a 16 year old. (He's 11.) He's *thisclose* to his dad's height, though Evelin said he will far surpass mine too. I mean, everyone in our family is hell of over six feet tall, I just didn't expect it at 11, you know? Still, I was so exhausted after this, I decided maybe the docs are onto something. Still, it's a way not to move while your kids have fun and you get sweaty and burned and listless :) :

So there are some ideas, should any of you find yourselves sentenced to limited immobility and no one trusting you, lol.

(Psssst...anyone here a bed rest rebel desperate to do something, without pissing off the warden? If so, keep reading. I will deny all involvement should you get caught, however.)
-Lint roll your bed while you're in it.

-Wipe down your night stand and de-clutter it.

-Clean some window tracks if you can reach any.

-On your way to the bathroom, rotate laundry, straighten mats, wipe down washer/dryer...

-While in the bathroom (door locked duh!): Wipe down counters, doorknobs, sink, counter, toilet, shake mats into the shower, empty the watebasket, use a kid wipe to swipe the floor (there's ALWAYS hair or dust!), straighten towels, gather bath toys, etc.

-Use any furlough to clear a surface, throw something away, wipe something down, fix/straighten.

-Ask your caretaker for something and then get up and dust the trim or a desk, whatever.

My big goal, in the next four days, is to put all the photographs I've ever owned (what's a photograph right?) into these specialized boxes I bought when I used to scrap. I think I might rather wake up to a colossal squid beside me than sort this heap of photographs starting with my great x eight grandparents on both sides (because I'm the organized one) up until I stopped taking picture-pictures of Quinn and Reilly when we got a computer way back when.

Come to think of it, I choose rest.

Monday Mouth Off

2010-07-05T00:30:00.000-07:00

Since my house is clean, I will take this opportunity to answer questions I get repeatedly, via email and text, but never get around to posting. As if none of your lives will be complete unless you know.

*SPOILER*

Yes, Virginia there are chores I hate:

-Vacuuming. It's like opening a book that is 2,065 pages long. It's Quinn's job.

-Putting away laundry.

-I just discovered I loathe cleaning the refrigerator, but love having it clean. Blah.

-Washing the exterior windows, because the shrubs are tall enough to require every millimeter I have to get them perfectly clean.

-Making the bed that is against the wall, or BUNK BEDS OMG!

-Phone calls. Any.Phone.Calls.

These and organizing are not the loves of my life. I am tormented by the order in which to arrange my books, and how to arrange the crafts, which I despise, on the shelves so that I get credit for having them but no one ever notices/uses them. It doesn't work. There are pipe cleaners and glitter everywhere. Joy.

It only fair to share my favourite tasks, just for kicks:

-Laundry. (Simmer down! It does the work FOR you!!!)

-Dishes, because the dishwasher does the dirty work and it leads to a whole kitchen wipe down that leads to a whole house wipe down which ... Oh the places you'll go!

-Scrubbing floors.

-Cleaning the bathrooms.

-Polishing chrome.

-Freshly washed bath mats.

-Washing the vinyl shower liner.

-Dusting obscure areas spontaneously, skipping the days-long-dread.

-Vacuuming my car.

-Throwing things away.

-My torrid affair with the Sonic Scrubber, any time, anywhere.

-Folding laundry.

-Shredding papers. It means I've called on them!

-Bleaching sinks/tubs.

So yeah, I lovetocleanup.

Finally, a trick or two for those of you who fall somewhere in between:

-Consolidate. All dishes into the left side of the sink, all papers into one stack or tray, all lists clipped together, all laundry into hampers duh, all cords into bundles, decorative things into a container that showcases them. Fruit.

-CADDIES! Period. A counter top full of ungodly shit is impossible. A caddy full of trinkets and papers and knick knack paddywhack can be sifted through while you catch Ellen.

-Every time you use a sink, wipe up the splashes, and any specks, and re-hang hand towels openly so they dry and the next person's newly washed hands aren't drenched in some sopping wet towel. Always be surveying the area you're in. Straighten a rug, grab a Kleenex off the table and throw it away, etc.

-Set timers! Accountability! You can either set it for an hour and see how much you can rip through the whole house, or set it for 10-20 minutes in each selected room, which spruces things up nicely over all.

-Invite someone over. Not your best friend.

-Clean surfaces. This is key for me. Everywhere I am, I am wiping down/de-cluttering a surface and it doesn't take but two seconds longer than I was going to be standing there anyway.

-Minimize. Anything.

There you have it, a compartmentalization of sorts. I hope this is helpful. Feel free to continue asking questions. I'm hoping to add some backbone to this floppy blog soon. Also, ~M~ I have NOT forgotten about you.

Friday Firecracker For the Fuck You Heart

2010-07-02T19:12:00.000-07:00

Every year Todd takes the kids to the beach for the 4th. I hate the beach. (Pause for you to gasp...) I grew up there, I've seen enough agates and dealt with wet sandy jeans and I'm all done. Plus I'm not in love with fireworks. Endless intermittent explosions and a lingering sulfuric haze is just not how this mama parties down.

I was conned into going last year by my beloved little masterminds who insisted they would scarcely survive if I didn't come. I love watching them play in the sand, though bear in mind my previous exclamation: I do hate the beach. Still, a good book and a camera, and I'll make it.

Last year was extra special because this rotten urchin I knew, whose gaping pus-spewing facial orifice had really outdone itself a couple weeks prior, called me (as I had borne witness to her prize-winning sepsis) SCREAMING, loud enough for my entire family to hear, "I'm going to take all your friends and ruin your life!" Well duh, when you're fucked like that and realize you're a fugly square-headed venomous bitch that everyone secretly hates, you really have no option but to blame someone else. People were calling me all weekend, to tell me I was all kinds of fucked, that this bitch is crazy, will have you killed, watch out. It was like a mini mental pyrotechnic encore in my head, and each time my phone rang I'd have to jog to the old fire station to maintain a signal, whilst listening to numerous worried voices.

Obviously this 4th July I am celebrating two types of independence. The obvious one, and the one wherein I, unlike half of this community, do not have to clamor to be an esteemed pilot fish in the infected nostrils of the Dogfish of Darkness. Blech. Good fucking riddance you cancerous shitbag, my life is infinitely cleaner without your slug trail threatening to fell anyone you please, not to mention all the brainless filthy fucks who would sooner infect others with your poison than raise their own children or CLEAN THEIR OWN HOUSES! Chrissake people, your homes do reflect you to some degree. And these subhumans all need some kerosene and to just dwell permanently in the gills of the Colossal Cunt.

Okay, now that I'm back from that trip down memory cesspool, onto the domestic demands of normal people.

I am running a domestic decathlon these days. I've said it all before, but damn. It's not really the big things that wear me out though, like school, packing/lifting, and certainly not cleaning. It's the little things like, make sure to charge my phone while I: Start the laundry, load the dishwasher, wipe the counters, sweep the floor, grab the Windex for the window and oven door, hang clean hand towels (we're talking inside two minutes here people), wipe down refrigerator handles, straighten pics/coupons/drawings on the refrigerator, Swiffer, empty the garbage can, wipe out the microwave, rotate the laundry, separate bedding according to room, put in whites to bleach, hang my snooty ass clothes, re-rinse the bleach load, add it to the load in the dryer, take a picture of my empty sorter because when the natives return they will have hell of laundry. Full of sand. Goddamn the beach.

Meanwhile I've put two water bottles in the freezer for my nighttime foray into the adult world, sans Lysol. Phone is charging.

I made this list at 6-something am. I should be shot. I managed to oversee the packing, which they can do themselves, but I remind them re: toothbrushes, chargers, blah blah blah. Crossing this list off throughout the day has been like Ecstasy, especially since my first task was to clean the ENTIRE refrigerator while Todd was at Fred Meyer getting 25 bags of groceries. Did I mention I started uploading 40+ cds as I churned out this manic morning mandate for myself? So every four minutes or so, I'd have to eject the disc and re-format a new one. Yeah, count me in for chopping fire wood. Computer tedium wastes my life.

Folding all blankets, put one water in the refrigerator so I can have it with lunch, get lost in the cupboard and cut our cup/glass population by half. Anything chipped: Gone. Anything ugly that I was keeping for the sake of an in-law passing by: Out. Anything found in the back, given to me by that skaaaaaaaaaaankish whore who probably used my money to buy it, and then handed it to me with the hands she'd just pried off of that dog man who followed her sick domineering scent through all the years of her whore-a-thon with no shame, but nose down of course. Yeah, those may have been shattered on the patio.

Straighten couch cushions, position throw pillows for no one in particular, but it will look better upon return. (Have uploaded approximately 10 discs in this time.) Made beds, including the one against the wall, UGH! Read the mail and did not let it stack up. (!) Restocked all towels, napkins, polished chrome, took out all garbages, answered ...(checking)...71 texts, 12 more discs, computer froze. Gnashed every swear word I know at that computer, which I then wiped down, including the cords underneath. It finally perked up, and I sat and manually entered some compilations iTunes doesn't recognize. SNORE OMG. Sorted through kids' outgrown clothes. Again. Quinn skipped 18 and went straight to size 20 Levi's. His growth exhausts me.

Like, I organized nail clippers, mailing labels, paper clips, hole punches, and all those things that are amazing when compartmentalized and reason enough to run to a mental hospital when they're in some orgy in a drawer.

It is blissful to report that I got ever cd uploaded and my iPod synced for this weekend's adventures. Yeah bitch, I has adventures planned. Manic cleaning has a finite threshold before it's just insane, and I made plans. Dana, I am coming to test your good word, Sumu I am coming out there to tell you something, Jo, I need a new tree, this one is like some deadly nightshade, Jennifer, I will see you today or tomorrow or today and tomorrow, and Debe, well obviously you're driving, and we will discuss recipes and lilies and all things nonviolent, won't we?

I am unshowered. I will scrub the Ajax out of the tub/shower when I get in, and then this entire house will clean, plus I will have uploaded all the discs except my kids,' in addition to doubled what we already have set aside to add to the garage sale fever. God I hate garage sales, but I'm really good at them, and I LOVE space. Also, a few bucks never hurt.

Some of the scenery as I went kickin' down the cobblestone:

Man I hated this:

This shelf like fell a-p-a-r-t and I was all "Fuck you shelf!" And then fixed it:

Cafe clean and closed:

A living room fit for everyone to be gone:

Blankets folded (I love/hate blankets. I like falling asleep with one, but hate waking up with one.)

Made beds are for the win...unless you're a total soulless slore having sex with God knows who at all hours. Then I suppose it would be really inconvenient. But for me it's amazing:

So clean up your acts mamas (and papa), and have a fabulous 4th. Reflect on independence in any form. I recommend coconut vodka, and bad-ass people worth the hangover. Except I don't get hangovers, ever, so I go get the coffee and bagels.

Thursday Throwdown

2010-07-01T13:55:00.000-07:00

I figured this is my final stab at getting anyone's attention before I lose you to the world of Piccolo Petes, snakes, smoke bombs, illegal fountains, ad nauseum. Suffice it to say, the 4th of July is not my dream holiday, as I revile loud endless shocking noise, and, since we have always gone to Todd's family's property on the coast, I get to witness the assholes who leave their fire works carcasses and trash strewn about their not-all-the-way-out camp fires. No thanks, really.

So I'm pissed off because I can't clean until the stitches are out (MOTHERFUCK! Really universe?), so my natural response is to punish all of you with everything I wish I was doing right this second.

Here goes:

-Figure out how to spiff up the tops of my suede ottomans. They're losing a bit of their luster and that just won't do.

-Dust the vertical blinds, tediously, with a mini lint roller. And the top too, so the stupid fucking corner piece falls off and you have to go spelunking to retrieve it and a pencil from behind the love seat.

-Introduce Murphy's Oil to the table.

-Weed some of the crafts out of the school shelf.

-Wipe down entire kitchen, once the dishes are unloaded/loaded.

-Bleach the left side of the sink that was forgotten the other day and is exceedingly jealous of the right side.

-Wash kitchen windows and oven door.

-Clean range hood and underneath.

-Soak drip pans, use a BRILO pad, replace. :)

-Wash floor with hot bleach solution on hands and knees (or in my case, mind).

-Organize dvds/video games in the amazing tote everyone ignores.

-Dust both computers.

-Clear off end tables.

-De-clutter main counter.

-Shred the mail that sits sneering like a total asshole.

-Rearrange the kids' room. Again. Again.

-Organize back vanity. Two "women" and a son whose regimen could teach me a thing or two = having to straighten it out EVERY SINGLE DAY now. Joy.

(Recent phone call from Reilly, who does not wear make up but who I do allow to use some under eye concealer because she inherited crack whore dark circles from her mama--you're welcome!)

"Mom? You know that pouch that you keep all your make up in?"

"You mean my make up pouch, lol?"

"Right. Well I need the concealer out of that."

"I'm 50 miles away."

"Okay well can we pick up a few things for me for when you have the bag?"

"Um, it's my bag, but yeah, I'll get you some concealer."

So see, the vanity is like some bus stop, where everyone goes to preen and beautify and constantly needs to be organized and wiped down. I'm really glad my kids have an innate drive to be clean and groomed, but cleaning up glitter is charming twice.

-Strip/re-make beds.

-Fold blankets.

-Vacuum.

-Make sure all laundry is folded and put away.

-Clean fans.

-Reach my water bottle and book alllll the way over there. Ugh.

Okay, put that in your spout and launch it!

Gettin' all Saturday-Like!

2010-06-26T06:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know the sun is here, and you're all in a mad rush to soak up its every ray, since we Oregonians know how fleeting these visits can be, even in the summer. But, I will caution that too much frolicking will give your house carte blanche to turn itself inside out, until it is virtually unrecognizable, regardless of the condition in which you left it. Specifically, dust, my inanimate arch nemesis, will invade with reinforcements the likes of which you've never seen. So, there are a few things we can do to minimize the sneaker wave shit hole that threatens to greet you sun worshipers.

TIPS:

-If you're eating outside a lot, whether garden delights or Hebrew National hot dogs (the only acceptable brand--though no more for me thankyouverymuch), try using paper plates, so as not to be lugging mustard-streaked plates in. This would make me so happy. I know the earth might say "tsk tsk," but do you always obey the earth? Are you wearing a GIANT hat outside? See?

-Take all garbage cans and wastebaskets out to prevent being accosted by smells you might not survive.

-Don't leave compost, no matter how secure.

-I highly recommend getting your laundry washed and folded beforehand, because seeing its ugly mug after you've basked all day will piss you off and make you run away to to Costa Rica to live in a palapa. Ahhhhhh palapas. I know whereof I speak.

-Dust thoroughly. I cannot stress this enough.

-Keep a little fan going, lest you choke and die.

-Make sure beds are clean and made.

-Vacuum your car once a week. No joke. If you don't have a Shop Vac, come over and I'll do it.

-Be sure to wipe down kitchen and bathroom so the ants don't mistake your absence for an engraved invitation to house sit. They are pieces of shit, second only to their human counterparts, who also inhabit this area. Kirkland wipes or Lysol or some green-type spray work well.

-Tuck in chairs, tidy up towels, straighten pillows, rugs, etc.

It may sound like a lot, but you can do all this in one hour, and it will help prevent epic catastrophe.

TODAY:

-Scrape my eyes open to greet the Comcast guys who canceled today (!!!), trying not to look like a crack whore while they hook us up in the new house.

-b) Coffee.

-Finish hanging up the clothes at which all the new white hangers are batting their eyelashes.

-Fill the shoe rack that *I* , yes I, style retard, found at Target, and is so cute I want to squeeze something really hard.

-Go to Beaverton to get the tv from Becky, who is an amazing life saver.

-Install said tv and exhale after a long Chelsea fast.

-Put my hair up and get ready to haul the washer and dryer. Shit.

-Install.

-Admire.

-Start laundry.

-Shower.

BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE:

-Clean out my bedroom, wiping EVERYTHING down.

-Wash bedding.

-Clean kitchen, cull neglected items and toss them in the garage sale pile, also known as the garage.

-Run external hard drive. Marvel at how anyone could stand not to have hundreds of pictures of their kids, but more shocking still is that _________ did not demand pictures of him/herself, as that would have been more important. Rejoice in pics of my kids, and rest in their protection.

-Agonize over replacement/moving of couches.

-Basically, remove what I can, clean what's left, and leave the rest in the hands of the garage sale fairies.

-Oh, I will be cleaning the fans.

-And bleaching garbage cans.

-And packing away framed pictures and art.

-And drinking at least 12 coffees.

-AND! Trick my back with Darvocet, because goddamn that's some wicked pain, but I won't stop. Evah!

-Hit the car wash.

-Generally minimize, that's what it's all about. That, and shipping off packages to a new baby and to my nephews.

-This will happen. People are depending on me, so there's no two ways about it!

So you can't leave me hanging you selfish jerks. Get moving and show me some love!

-Scrub both bathr tubs.

File Away Friday

2010-06-25T09:51:00.000-07:00

Yep, that's my daisy. :)

I have always been an early riser, but still, sometimes that alarm singes my eyelids and makes me curse the universe. This was one of those mornings. But hey, we do what we must when Comcast is coming sometime between 8:00am and next Tuesday, right? The only way to combat the sick, bleary sleep shortage was to get my ass cleaning and fast. I have a mixture of weird small tedious shit to conquer, as well as doors to paint, things to install, a garage sale to prep, and of course, an appointment in an hour to keep my busierthanamotherfucker.

Right away I washed the last load of laundry, after hanging and approximately 8932085 garments last night, and washing everything from the trip. Next I ate and bleached every sink in the house, as well as toilets. I then FINALLY labeled and put my bedside file cabinet to use. This has been whimpering at me since I bought it two months ago. This begat an extremely satisfying paper shredding experience. (I've often said I was born in the wrong era--that perhaps the 50's would have suited me more. But when I'm perusing the symbol menu on the label maker, and seeing 13 medical bills get ripped to shit, in an organized fashion, I'm like, "The fifties can suck it!")

I mean, give credit where credit is due!

In addition to draining the bleachy sinks, I am morphing into The Incredibles to accomplish the following (and more) before I get into the shower at gunpoint to make my appointment:

I loathe counter stacks, almost as much as I hate filthy lying whores, but I'm on a roll:

I'm only procrastinating on installing this because it's gold. And, could it be more gold?

I also need to:

-Make kids' chore lists before I go.

-Make exchanges downtown.

-Cruise through car wash.

-Send a package to my cousin, who just had a baby last night! <3

-Scrub out sinks, wipe down counters.

-Oversee pick up of trinkety crap.

-Clean fans.

-And, OMG! GET IN THE FUCKING SHOWER!!!

Status reports due pronto!

Hooked on Housework

2010-06-21T09:33:00.000-07:00

I mounted this hook, so that my robe and a jacket could coexist peaceably. Sometimes it's the little things.

Tall Skinny Half Caff Manic Saturday With Extra Foam

2010-06-19T10:42:00.000-07:00

Pick your poison, and Moxie up!

The kicker with blogging about cleaning is that I have often gotten up to use the bathroom, and then cleaned half the house before I sit down to peck out some words of encouragement and my certifiable lists, and sometimes pictures. (Like "sometimes y.")

Speaking of pictures, I tend to forget to take "befores" since one's natural inclination is not to immortalize shit hole disasters, and because I usually head full-throttle into those tasks and then the "afters" fail to impress.

But I do have some meager offerings, to showcase a little bit of a day in the life.

This, this is prize-winning. As you know, I wake up and clean in my underwear. It's less cumbersome, it's cooler, or because I've got it so bad I can't stop to put on pants. But, as I've mentioned, I have unwittingly answered the door in my underwear on a couple of occasions, so I bought some black shorts at Old Navy. Problem solved. This happened the first time I wore them, a few days ago, and it's the only time I've ever been bested by bleach:

I was really pissed about this. These cost $7.00 or something, but that's not the point. The one time I go out of my way to clean in modesty wear, and it gets the hose again. It's the principle. But then everyone reminded me 100 times that they were purchased as "cleaning shorts," because there is no way in HELL I would wear shorts in public, so then I was 3% less pissed. In any event, I kicked some heavyweight ass that day in spite of my bleach bath. I stripped everything in the house down to its bones, and cleaned it all back together.

Laundry sorter skeleton:

Drawers that become totally incestuous no matter what you do. Gotta straighten those out:

Playing cupid with a nightmare chip/everything cupboard and my trusty wire caddies:

Before (introductions):

All done: (You have to be looking for something to fully appreciate their affair.)

So there are some images of gittin' jiggy wit Moxie, and there's more in store for today, though I've had the house in a continuous detox/cleanse for weeks, so I don't resemble some first-on-the-scene Haitian Relief Worker like I usually do on Saturdays, which my back will be glad to hear.

So far:

-Ate, made coffee.

-Wiped counter tops.

-Emptied wastebaskets and garbage.

-Pieced together one full load of laundry. Yep.

-Assembled outgoing mail.

-Touched a few less desirable tasks to make sure I didn't dream them. (They're real.)

-Re-stocked the t.p., napkins, paper towels, etc.

-Started dusting blinds in the bathroom, which will be wiped down and swept later.

Soon to get the smack down:

-Fold laundry dregs, put it away.

-Stare at my clothing rack and say "What.The.Fuck? Why are you always full?" And then hang it all up in my closet. I dread this. What can I say? I am Old Navy's bitch.

-Wipe down dining/schooling/only place with chairs area. We have four birthdays plus Fathers Day tomorrow. I'm assuming we'll need the table.

-Grab a shovel and head to the dual vanity in the master bedroom. Good god. No, I can't even take a picture. Adolescence has essentially blown up on my side. You know it's bad when your 'to-be-sewn' heap is so high it's nice to have your make-up nestled atop it because you're tall and it's easy to reach. Everyone has his or her own soap, deodorant, hair gel (she for frizz, he for spike), flat irons, lotion, and earrings, and apparently my side of the vanity had a huge WELCOME mat on it, which was invisible to me. I love that my kids are well-groomed, and that one always hands the other a flosser, but like, some goddamned elbow room, just once! Or please leave the straightener on when you can see I'm fighting a serious crimp. Most importantly, line your shit up like soldiers, like your mamacita, or go move into Papa's side, which is also more like a barracks. So yeah, this project has all the come hither allure of the Wicked Witch from Snow White.

-Keep rearranging my room to figure out which five things are the right things. This room is like Sudoku for the minimalist mind. The whole table with one flower and a water bottle and eternal OCD bliss fantasy is pure horse shit. It ain't gonna happen. Not as long as there are flip flops, books, coins (!!!), Sharpies, gum, lotion, lotion, gum, remotes, iPods, and phones. I challenge anyone to come figure this out. It's fun in a deep-paper-cut-between-your-fingers way.

-The exterior windows.

-All mirrors. (In which to seeeee the crimps.)

-Spend 20 minutes in the kids' room. Quinn outgrew ALL his Levi's again. No, again-again. He now wears size 20 skinny jeans. In contrast, Reilly's skinnies are size 7. They are so opposite I'm surprised one of them wasn't born black.

-Wipe down entertainment area, including cords, the wall, the clock, and the shelving above.

-Assemble my new file thing.

-Dust one side to the other.

-Clock out, thank my back for lasting another day.

What say you?

-How's laundry?

-Dishes? Doesn't stop there doontcha knoo. Counters, appliances, cupboard faces, and floors.

-De-clutter each room.

-Dispose of trash in each room.

-Wipe down all possible surfaces.

-Wipe down kitchen/bathrooms, polish chrome fixtures, and hang clean towels.

-Vacuum.

-Clean windows. Do it, you'll get hooked like meth, only you'll keep your teeth!

-Hang all coats in closets, clothes in bedrooms, and fold blankets.

-Change sheets?

-Check wastebaskets/garbage?

-Wipe down computers/computer areas.

-Don't forget Fathers Day! I was so organized I tried celebrating it last week, so I brought Todd a tiramisu, which, by some miracle, didn't go to waste, but now the kids and I have to do something different. I once knew someone who cheated on the person she was with to have sex with her ex as a Fathers Day gift. Isn't that a kick? Pretty original I thought, though Todd would rather have the tiramisu than her. Or MRSA.

Sarah you had better be finishing up Caleb's room, and you can use my shovel for Maddie's! But you must send pics or you have to stop using Moxie as a verb, lol. I want to prance you around, and also, shut up about your margaritas!!!

Okay ready set go and all the usual shit. Clean it up!

Mouth Off to Moxie

2010-06-13T08:30:00.000-07:00

I keep passing by this intriguing potion in the organic department of Fred Meyer, and I want to try it, but I am loathe to relinquish my ozone searing Lysol, Clorox, Ajax, etc.

Still, these bottles are batting their eyelashes at me every time I cruise by. Does anyone have experience with J.R. Watkins products? Soon Moxie is going to showcase solvents and supplies favoured for all jobs great and small. But first I need the lowdown on this one.

Thanks!

Manic Saturday in A Major, Followed by A Minor

2010-06-12T07:22:00.000-07:00

I never lose things. Ever. I have a tedious, frustrating-as-hell system for keeping track of every pen, list, receipt, lip balm, and even some stuff of yours. It is a pain in the ass sometimes, especially for those waiting for me to wrap and zip things up when we're on our way out, but these same haters are always pleased when they ask for the mini straightener, extension cord, or banana, and I always have it. Everyone knows where my hairbands are, my bobby pins (though I admit these are oddly prone to running away, fucking ingrates). This week has been ...(drum roll)... busy. I'm still wading in a sea of "pass-me-downs," as Reilly says, but it has quickly become the deep end, with a fierce undertow. Thus, I have lost my new black bra. No. I said I lost my bra. As in, I have looked in the freezer and my kids' wallets. I could die. When the insurance company finally kicked down with the money for our ruined clothes, the first thing I did was race to get new bras. The girls deserved it, and so as shit did everyone else. I assumed it was lost in the Perfect Storm of every black garment Old Navy and GAP has ever made, but it's just LOST! Do I have other bras? Duh. Do I have other black bras? Double duh. Which brings me back to my original point: I don't lose things. So I'm all discombobulated, in the way that could lead to a massacre. Sooo...

This morning I am so preoccupied I'm more or less Rainman, not to mention the fact that I left one of my phone chargers at a friend's house, and I have to work my Bippity-Bobbity-Boo in time to make two surprise birthday parties. Good God, do some candles have more than two wicks?

With this double shot disclaimer out of our way, let me boast what I have been able to do this morning:

-Vacuum my car.

-Sort the drawer that contains baby aspirin, G.U.M tooth picks, three sizes of clippers, Tylenol, Excedrin, Vicodin, dental floss, and other shit that needs to be readily accessible. This a big deal.

-Got every stitch of laundry accounted for like so many prisoners. I may wash the linen sorter hamper bag things with OxiClean.

-Did a bleach load.

-Swept laundry room.

-Slaughtered a foot-high stack of papers on the laundry room.

-Stripped and re-made my bed. Gazed around this three foot space and choked down the harsh truth that I am a filthy consumer, and a compulsive one at that. I am convinced that buying 720 totes and caddies, it will create space in this house?

(Moving on from painful revelation)

-Swept my carpet.

-Installed my lock.

-Windexed all windows and screens.

-Bleached both kitchen sinks and all three bathroom sinks.

-Filled up front bathroom tub with bleach and hot water.

-Pulled out couches and vacuumed around/under/behind them.

-Organized whichever circle of hell crafts are. Reilly had a birthday party yesterday and it took 17 sticker binders and a Creative Memories consultant to complete her card, which was AWESOME. I hate crafts. But I buy them. Filthy consumer, I already said it.

-Dusted.

-Frantic straightening everywhere I went.

-Polished all chrome.

-Stopped to eat and feed my back some Vicodin over easy.

Coming to an OCD freak show near you:

-This has to be the day of reckoning with the dual vanity in the master bedroom. Once upon a time Todd and I shared this space, but he has since been relegated to a KOA or something I think, and the tweendom sprawl has invaded. You don't even know. Quinn uses all my hairspray, bottles of Big Sexy that last me a year, he blasts through in two months. So there's a battle of yours-and-mine, which conflicts with my "my-things-are-my-children's-things" philosophy but Jesus. They each have their own hairbrushes, Reilly's earrings migrate in a fussy huddle, though she has never lost one (like mother like daughter). Luckily Quinn has one pair, and they're in his ears. But the more shit on the counters, the harder it is to wipe everything down, and it is at critical mass right now. I have my sewing kit down because I need to fix some holes, so apparently it invited several other boxes and notebooks, and clothes to be returned, and the cherry on this heap was when my make-up fell or was shot, or died of shaken (?) syndrome, which of course, NOBODY saw. So I have to sort all this out like pronto. UGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!

-Organize the most recent Costco haul, re-stock everything.

-Clear the top of the refrigerator.

-Shift some wire caddies around to facilitate the major overhaul in the kitchen. (SUCK: Fred Meyer no longer carries these caddies, shit fuck shit! I just found out last night.)

-Scrub the kitchen floor on hands and knees.

-Empty all wastebaskets, take out trash.

-Clean the toilets.

-Hand-vac the bathroom mats.

-Tell the kids, who typically get weekends off, especially since they're on an accelerated summer school work track, that my back will break and I will be paralyzed forever if they don't help me, especially with crafts, and the retarded fury that is bunk beds.

-Straighten my accessories once there's room, find all necessary clothing for the day/night, pick up my charger, mail a package, pick up some medications, and SCRAM, muy satisfied.

My best advice is to select the top three most burdensome aspects of your top five most hated areas, put your hair in a ponytail, put on some fierce underwear, and don't stop until you're done.

We want:

-Clear surfaces, from the floor up.

-Dishes done, kitchen wiped down.

-Laundry done and folded by Sunday night.

-Bathrooms spiffed up or murdered, depending on your energy level.

-Vacuum.

-Stack and contain clutter.

These are good goals. You can do these things.

But has anyone seen my bra?

Mild Mannered Mania on a Saturday

2010-06-05T09:25:00.000-07:00

Has it really been a week? Damn. I swear I post everyday. Probably because I clean everyday, and feel guilty everyday, trying to s-t-r-e-t-c-h the hours in a day to make blogging possible. I have no idea how people loiter online, when I can barely muster the interest to check news, email, and powder my blogs' noses before running away with a sick feeling. I'm just not an online girl.

I am also, it would seem, a complete disappointment to my Texan friends, hoping for an extra boost to get their mops (read: Swiffers!) flying. Kasondra, Jennifer, I'm sorry. Jennifer at least I make you laugh, and am thisclose to finding S. Kent a job here. We're still holding strong at 15% right? Cool. And Kasondra, your patience is much appreciated and undeserved, and if you didn't live so close to Crawford Ranch I would come and scrub your house's skin off, and then tell you you are insane because it was already clean. In other words, you're my sister.

Next up: The excuse for my dereliction of duties, so feel free to scroll straight down to today's tasks if you don't give a shit.

A dear friend has fallen quite ill and was hospitalized early in the week, so everyone has been pulling together to enable those close to the person to visit as often as possible. This also means we've had company all week, which, in terms of cleaning, means that I am at once more rabid than ever to keep after the details, and a complete failure. Random trips to Whole Foods and Bridgeport Village has left the house awash in assorted gifts to make sure my kids still love me despite being left alone on the island while I visit my friend. (This is a joke. My kids LOVE being here alone, and are exceedingly capable of doing so safely.) So basically, long-term guests ♥ + frantic random cleaning + gifts and treats + being gone more than usual + kids who are decidedly not OCD + Todd jamming in P-town = Holy shit I have a lot to do today, especially LAUNDRY! Let's get started.

Securing some hot water with a house full of people is precarious business. No, I was not showering silly. I can only clean in my morning-ness, in my underwear, but damn if the dirty towels aren't multiplying or if people aren't using clean towels with EVERY shower. FYI: Showering after visiting a hospital is mandatory so we're talking a natural disaster of towels. With this is mind:

So far today, I have:

-Fumbled with my new phone, which alternately displays three clocks on the outer screen, and no clocks ANYWHERE. Hm.

-Vacuumed my car.

-Crept in like a thief in the night to run a load of towels, which I will fold Marriott-style for my family guests.

-Ran another load of towels, which I will fold with less enthusiasm.

-Another load of towels and skinny jeans, Great Scott, without which, my kids will surely go into comas. (Can I get some support for tweendom? Maybe a hug. Xanax. Liquor?)

-Assessed the bathroom offensiveness factor. It was a 1, because I have cleaned it every time I've used it this week. Even as I was having my hair dyed and rinsed in the tub a few days ago, I was scrubbing the tub out with Ajax. That's when I was scolded and told to close my fucking eyes retard!

-Admired the new toilet seat. Oh man, this is a great gig if you can get it. Our trusty original one, 12 years old, broke a hinge last week, and the new fixtures are chrome, omg omg omg! I made Debe install it and she laughed and said there was absolutely nothing under the previous bolts except old Ajax. Chrome fixtures and new porcelain are for the win...until everyone gets food poisoning from a Mexican restaurant. You have no idea how hard it was not to ask everyone to kindly use the bathroom at Fred Meyer and stay the fuck away from my new toilet seat. Alas, suffice it to say it has been broken in.

-I made toast and coffee.

-Surveyed our disaster relief hostel to see which tasks I would entrust to Quinn and Reilly, which things I will non-verbally delegate to Todd (outside, porchly things that have Y-chromosomes all over them), which things can wait (none), and which things I was already doing without realizing it (wiping down the kitchen, putting dishes away, scrubbing the espresso maker, stacking the kids' stuff on the counter, for their retrieval.

-Stacked the dishes in a more loading-friendly fashion, while my coffee brewed. I can't load the dishes of the dishwasher is full because it is Quinn's job and he feels morally undeserving of his allowance if we do any of his chores. Awww. This morality did not come from me. If someone else wants to wash towels and give me $5.00, I say, "Hells yeah."

-Stacked garage sale stuff on dryer, making room for more, sure to be added today.

(Paused to eat, and wake up guests in order of who is most deserving of showers.)

In T-minus 10:

I am categorizing based on rooms/areas because there is so much to do I am going to develop ADHD and start alphabetizing our DVDs instead of folding The Big Dry Towel Mountain. Perhaps this will help some of you, also running a B&B, sloppy joe style.

-KEEP LAUNDRY RUNNING no matter what! Ask kids to rotate!

-Put my hanging clothes away.

-Hang new crop of wet clothes.

-Bitch and whine that I have nothing to wear.

-Put laundry mats and porch mat in the wash. Someone can take a cold shower. It will be me.

-Wipe down washer and dryer. Bless the hearts of well-meaning laundry helpers who are aim-challenged and can't get the soap into the drum. :)

-Move shoe rack, clothing sorter, and hanging rack and sweep and Swiffer entire floor.

KITCHEN:

-Bleach the sinks, again, stealing hot water, as soon as the dishes are loaded.

-Use my Sonic Scrubber around the sink and backsplash, and various crevices.

-Pull the knobs off the stove and scrub entire stove. Send signals that Todd will intuit as needing to replace the drip pans, after the ones I bought didn't fit, and I let the kids return them for the money because who wants to return drip pans?

-Windex: Oven door, kitchen window (inside), and microwave.

-Wipe out microwave, which I refuse to allow to get dirty. Ever.

-Hands and knees with a hot soapy/bleachy sponge and give the floor a bath.

KITCHEN BONUS: Grab two or three life-saving wire caddies and organize the pasta/protein powder/chip/cracker/Ramen/straw/'what the hell do I do with this?' cupboard. It's deep and dark, and needs to be excavated. Every time I'm in there I am assaulted with "Hey, you've scrubbed that floor twice today, how about a little attention? I've got empty bags of chips, rogue clips, and pieces of blenders up my ass, I'm sick of this second-class treatment!" Got to get in that cupboard.

BONUS JONAS: You know the refrigerator I keep posting to be cleaned out? I have apparently lied each time. No, I'm not afraid of huge projects, just huge projects that cannot be compromised with. Case in point: In cleaning out a cupboard, I can leave if called to duty or pleasure elsewhere. It's not my preference but nothing will rot. If I get such a call with $307.91 worth of organic food all over the kitchen while I scrub the life out of the refrigerator, and this will happen, I'm stuck between leaving it (unspeakable) or saying no (pretty much unspeakable). So that's that.

-I need to re-stock the Vanity napkins, except I think we're out. Note: Add napkins to the Costco list.

-Organize Ziploc drawer.

BATHROOMS:

-Scrub sinks/counters/toothbrush holders/mirrors, and hang new hand towels. (Yes that's all one motion.)

-Shake mats into tub and sweep/Swiffer the floor. Put mats back down.

-Grab a solvent and something scrubby and give the toilet(s) a what-for. I highly recommend new toilet seats, or, ooohhh, a whole new toilet! Can't hurt to ask.

-Hang new towels.

-Clean out window/tracks/blinds, even lazily.

LIVING ROOM:

-Pick up dishes, garbage, toys, and throw/put them away appropriately. I am a huge fan of throwing EVERYTHING away.

-Pick up and fold blankets.

-Push in couch cushions, spiff up throw pillows.

-Lint roll couches and ottomans.

-Dust TV/DVD player/all gaming shit.

-Dust pictures/art on the walls, clocks, etc.

-Wipe down side tables, entertainment centers, etc.

-VACUUM!

BEDROOMS:

-Strip beds, throw sheets in the wash, which you've been dutifully rotating.

-Dust and wipe down everything that can't run away.

-Put clothes away, and no throwing things in the wash because you don't want to fold/hang. OMG I have so many clothes to put away. I had a huge laundry basket full of, as Reilly calls them, "Pass-me-downs" that has started mingling with keepers, and have fused into a mountain of materialistic death. Sitting atop this shit is the vest. The puffy vest that was recently given (?) well, put on me, by someone who is either blind or thinks I'm auditioning to be the third Indigo Girl. All I'm saying is burgundy, and chevron. She bought it because the lining is as cute as the outside is heinous, but now I'm starting to wonder if it's actually fantastic. Hence not having touched the entire basket for a week.

HALLS & SUCH:

-Windex all mirrors, shake out/vacuum/wash all mats, wipe down cobwebs, edges of things, pictures, bookshelves. Um, there's a pair of Quinn's underwear on my bookshelf. That's odd. He's suddenly odd, but in the most delightful way. As I recently mentioned, we discovered that his legs are exactly the same height as mine. Our hip bones are level. But he is 5'8" and I am 6'1". And he just got the original Kate Gosselin hair cut, it's so amazing. He is loving and sweet and helpful and lays by me, and flings his underwear, presumably unwittingly, onto the bookshelf. So I'll wash the runner, just to be kosher.

-Tidy up closets. Hang up coats, organize shoes, toss anything that screams "Toss me!"

-Wipe doorknobs with disinfectant.

-Sweep entryways, both inside and out.

-Dust and wipe computer desks, serious. Cords and baseboards for extra bliss.

-Take one final sweep from one end to the other, damp rag in hand, and do a good wipe-and-grab.

-For those of you who have also had 97 gallons of coffee, and/or live in Hawaii, the only place where it's not already dark, try doing one "project" type task, like my cupboard.

FOR SYMPATHY: My room. In my room I am able to frolic as the minimalist I am in my heart, but I also have to reconcile with the consumer I am in my actual life, and the reality that one pair of jeans flung in here equals a veritable landfill in my mind's eye. I need to hand-vac the carpet, wipe what little linoleum is visible, put my Rubbermaid drawers under the table, finish installing the locks, dust, Windex-o-rama, and cry over the fact that three magazines, a cup of Sharpies, six books, and my phone = hoarding intervention.

Okay so I wrapped up your day into mine. That was really clever, and totally unintentional. The hospital called and due to a complication, I will have to be satisfied with what I have already done, thankful for clean towels, and tolerant of cold showers. My list will have to wait until later, but can hopefully be of use to some of you. Thankfully I've had SO.MUCH.COFFEE. so I will definitely be able to power through this holding tank.

Obviously Reilly and Kate Plus Eight are getting longer lists than usual today, as well as 40 extra hugs each.

Get manic and get at it! I will try to post pics later to prove how amazing (compulsive) I am.

I Don't Even Know

2010-05-30T15:53:00.000-07:00

Apparently some kinds of alcohol are more potent than others? Smirnoff Coconut Vodka = zzzzz.

I just woke up.

If you have both feet on the floor, you win.

If you have both feet on the floor and your eyes open, I bow to you.

And Quinn is filling water balloons with food colouring.

Never have I had higher hopes for the Starbucks antidote...

(My problem isn't drinking, btw, it's Chelsea.)

(Added for Deb--not my head in a cake? Sorry bish.)

Sweet Saturday Super Successes

2010-05-29T09:22:00.000-07:00

In an effort to crank up your enthusiasm this weekend, I thought I'd post a scene-stealing coup successfully staged by my friend Dana, to reinforce that anything is possible of you...are shamed constantly, and commit a date to Moxie!

She apologized profusely for her living room (yawn), and I told her to shutthefuckup. It was spacious yet cozy, and nice yet casual, though I will concede to spearmint-coloured blinds being pretty unforgivable.

Yeah, she's got skills like this:

The end of their seven acre living room:

And after, plus Jason, plus Stephen Colbert:

Previous tv district, a source of some strife as I recall, lol:

Take THAT Jason:

Dana say:

"Amazing what a coat of paint and a lack of green blinds can do for one's spirit!

Paint was $60. Curtains way more than they should have been. Curtain Rods another $60. But otherwise, nothing cost money. Finally got the ugly tv stand Jason brought home 4 years ago which just displays junk, out of the living room and traded it for something else we already had.

Moxieclean rocks!" :-)

Now that you've basked in your upgrade for two days, it's to kick some
Saturday ass! No doubt you've been at some soccer game since 5am.

My day? A bit scattered, weaving errands and activities in with the never-ending battle on the home front.

So far, I've:

-Put in the last load of laundry.

-Wiped down the kitchen.

-Dusted one of many regions that get a light dusting every fucking two seconds.

-Organized some paperwork.

-Organized five of 32023579 discs.

-Wiped down front bathroom.

-Forgot to make coffee.

Still in store:

My clothing pile, bigger than all the oil spills combined, waiting to be hung:

See? If we just stopped cooking, this wouldn't happen:

The insidious dining room table that can't stay clean for three seconds:

Just to name a few.

I also have to:

-Clean my room.

-Sweep back porch.

-Wash all mats.

-Get some lint rolling/dusting action going.

-Clean out the refrigerator. (No, not again, still.)

-Have Reilly finish sewing heaties (heated rice packs).

-Organize 40,000 pictures online.

-Change all bedding/sheets.

-Empty all wastebaskets.

-Bleach all sinks.

-Wipe all blinds.

-Get into the kids' room, which I did not post.

-This is all assuming I survive that pile of clothes. I swear to God I am responsible for at least one impoverished nation. Recently there was an intervention, wherein I was forced, and I mean forced, to get rid of this heap. Some still have tags. The truly sad thing? I won't even notice they're gone. I have long said, if you have seven outfits, you wear six, and if you have 100 outfits, you wear six. So adios. [sniff] Mt. Consumerism will take SEVERAL hours. Starbucks STAT!

Yes, I'm the only one who wakes up ready to rumble. (This is Reilly. I can tell by her water bottle.):

But fear not, half joy in my Saturday sickness is having the house nostly clean before anyone wakes up. The other half is cracking the whip once they do scrape themselves awake. :)

And the other other half, also known as a third, is a sweet Moxie comeback, like this one:

Man, that sucked.

Moxie Morning Afters

2010-05-26T13:43:00.000-07:00

So since Mesina is in Kent, and Maha in Egypt, and several of you are on the east coast, I'll just make no mention of the fact that the day is more than halfway over, and move right along to the hazards of unexpected mid-week drink-overs.

Let me first say that inasmuch as I had 12 minutes to get dressed, clean my house, and ponder dinner for me, a non-practicing omni-allergic, one vegan, a strict vegetarian, a loose vegetarian, and a non-allergic, non-restricted goer-with-the-flow, I won the Olympic Gold Medal for overthinking. Of course I was immediately displeased with my vodka, and needed to make sure everyone's alcoholic palates were pleased, only I couldn't go anywhere because there was no time. Once everyone was here I began apologizing for the dust on the bookshelves, the pan soaking in the sink, the fact that my bangs had a class A misdemeanor crimp, and reminded them all that I just hate having people over. The more the worst. Next I ordered everyone into Debe's car so that we would all have eaten prior to imbibing, as this particular assortment of people is prone to forgetting to eat more than one lentil or square of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in 24+ hours. Does the fun ever start?

I'm not much of a drinker. I don't have to be. I'm as loud and absurd and willing to put a thong on over my jeans in San Francisco sober as I am drunk. So I did the drinking fake-out, wherein I nursed one and slyly picked up errant straw wrappers and crumbs. Then suddenly, likely due to my WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, WHY ARE YOU CLEANING WHEN WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HAVING FUN issue, also known as OCD, the night took a WWF turn, and I guess I wasn't quite stone cold sober because I morphed into a Hulk Hogan-Croc Hunter hybrid, it was really pretty. I even bit an ottoman. But I definitely took hits as well, and was not surprised to wake up to bruises up and down my arms. Honestly, that was the least of my worries.

I never get hangovers, and I always wake up between 6-6:30am no matter what, but today I fell back asleep, which is the worst experience in the world. Suddenly Quinn showed up, and I kept telling him he was in Idaho, to which he replied that he was in fact standing right there, in that way that people who are sober and/or not in a coma/stupor and/or not amused speak. Apparently they never slept, and drove all night to get back. This took me three hours to comprehend. I knew the antidote to this haze was Starbucks, and just as I reached for my keys, which reside safely in my purse (I do not lose things), this happened:

Friends don't let friends use lotion drunk, OKAY? I can't even bear to post the inside of my purse. Let's just say that apparently 911 does not consider this an emergency, and that getting punched in the throat is better.

I was instructed to go away as a team of experts in my apocalyptic mess-related meltdowns swooped in to fix my purse, so I decided to blog about the perils of spontaneity and the OCD mind. As soon as I sat down, this happened. No, it's not lotion:

This was slightly less funny than a heart attack. I know because I had one.

It gets better...or worse, depending on whether you love me or hate me or are me. Reilly took advantage of my horror and Debe being here to cajole me into letting her make cookies. "Debe wants to know..." I was so impressed with my slimy lake-of-lotion purse, and hair, and everything else, that I said yes. Path of least resistance. I've only opted for that a couple times in my life. It really seemed like a good idea. They were laughing, Quinn was telling me about their trip, coffee for the win, and I was catching up online. Suddenly Debe says "Can we use your mixer?" I mean, to someone with OCD you may as well ask to bring an elephant in the house. "Okay." Upon hearing the thud of hoisting said mixer onto the counter, I detected groans of "Ummmmm..." and "Don't tell her!" Debe asked "What the hell happened to your mixer? It's totally covered in food and stuck-on shit and it has a chip in it." Knowing I don't cook, let alone bake, save thrice a year, it is obvious over-use is not the mixer's problem. I looked at them, and they said in unison, "Oh." You see, I loaned my mixer to someone I cared for very much, whose kitchen would kill a health inspector on the spot, back in December of 2008. I didn't want to, not even a little bit, as my belongings, as well as ALL belongings have a 96% chance of being lost, broken, peed on, or stolen, as I learned late in the relationship. But I wasn't sure how to say no, and this person knew that. It resided in her haz-mat nightmare kitchen for almost five months, enduring unknown brutalities, indulging her delusions of being God's gift to all things culinary (cough, cough) and when I finally got it back, I briefly checked to make sure the pieces were there and that there were no rodents stuck to it, and put it in my cupboard. It emerged today, in the light of day, and a) Debe instantly knew that I have never exaggerated about this, and b) My mixer literally said "Ahhhhh" when they bathed it. It even cried a little. Then I remembered all the things of mine that were destroyed in two seconds, the gift-giving tradition of "Thank you (SHATTER!)" and how people can be so detached and irresponsible, and a little vignette played in my mind and I felt like I had lice within 10 seconds.

The next time I turned around, I was greeted by this soothing landscape:

(The shit strewn about the counter is the contents of my purse, drying. Oooh, I can't wait for Anonymous to point out the pill bottles, as a public service announcement of course. Don't forget, if someone else happens to break my bone(s) and I require surgery, that is my fault, my seeking drama, and worst of all, when I used to know the Queen to whom all these drones answer, there was no worse offense in all the world than to get sick, hurt, or die, because it requires her to strain her self-absorbed brain to emulate empathy. (!!!) Can you imagine how selfish of me? So anyway, it's Vicodin, suck it.

Some random ghetto on my counter:

My mixer. All patched up and proud of itself for surviving, though it still has flashbacks:

I am pretty sure this is the most dishes I have ever had in my sink at once. I get panicky because it's hard to wash your hands without the water running down the cookie sheets and everywhere. (Some people wash their hands, and there's even this thing where people have hand soap in their bathrooms so guests don't have to carry their own, secretly, for five years, in order not to offend you. Just sayin. Could be why certain kids are sick every week...)

Perhaps the hazards of drinking don't look the same in my life as they do in yours, but it doesn't mean you won't find me with my head in my hands, asking why. It is particularly painful to write this because the mess is right at my back, it may as well be carrying scythe. It seems even Moxie procrastinates sometimes. But, if someone asked to come over right now, I'd say yes and bust this out, including a shower, in nine minutes.

I don't know why this is the longest post in the world. I must have caught The Verbosity from Debe. Thanks Jerk. I hope you have fun at NW Kids Club while I clean.

Okay, so 14 minutes:

Don't you covet my new purse? Comfy:

I need a drink.

Nothing Gets You Moving Like...

2010-05-25T20:25:00.000-07:00

...responding to a few texts with "The guys are in Idaho and I have vodka..." only to get three consecutive replies saying, "Almost there," "If you're sure. I'm on my way," and "That means I'd have to use your shower and you said I never could."

(Back story: I've been in my underwear ALL day, researching appellate law, getting infuriated, exhausted, and thirsty. So this is not my prize-winning day for productivity nor excitement. Still, I was rather surprised when an impromptu drunken sleepover on a Tuesday, which began as a simmer in the mental cauldron, rapidly came to a boil, and now I have to spiff up my cave--I just realized it is night and it's cold and I don't have any lights on--so that it will seem hospitable and amazing for absolutely no reason. But for sure pants. Probably. I have a tendency to blast my music, forcing people to walk in because I don't hear them knocking, so we'll see who wins the race...)

The moral of the story: Drinks at my house, duh. No we can't listen to your music, and yes you can use the shower.

And pants!

And cleaning. See?

Small Sunday Salvations

2010-05-22T21:29:00.000-07:00

First off, let me apologize for the minor melee that ensued in yesterday's comments, and any discomfort it may have caused. You see, some people are empty and BORED, and take every opportunity to raise my ire. Maybe after another year they will realize I don't give a shit about any of them, except when they hog what is supposed to be a forum supporting moms trying to get a handle on their homes.

I remain dedicated to assisting in this purpose, and will do my best to keep our collective focus on uniting as voyeurs in Mesina's affair with her Dyson, trying to change Dana's politics, and oh yeah, convincing you all that laundry is not the Big Bad Wolf. Really. It's a feral cat at times, but many of you are psyched out.

Today I was hoping to infuse a bit of inspiration, by showcasing some very practical tips (pics included!) for things that have eased my OCD tremendously. As you know, clean surfaces are my secret weapon against the imp of my mind that says my house is war-torn Bosnia even when I've scrubbed the skin off my fingers. Once the surfaces are clean, I can dust more easily, and have less clutter assaulting my eyes at every turn.

I cannot emphasize enough the revelation that is wire caddies. The ones from Fred Meyer are affordable and CLEAN looking, and you can see everything stored inside. To date, I use them to store all laundry supplies in the laundry cupboards, video game crap in a book case near the tv, miscellaneous things belonging to my precious children, whose streams of books, wallets, iPods, candy corn, pendants, and keys constantly emerge from their room and onto my COUNTER! (!!!) I also use these for socks, cds, computer games, Todd's weird nests, as a home for all the NWT things I keep around for unexpected gift giving, on the dryer for plates and casserole dishes that need to go back home with their owners, and under the bathroom sinks, for a) my hair shit, lint roller refills, razor cartridges, lotions, etc., b) Todd's seven gallon Lifesource shampoo, his razors, incense, and soap, and c) all of our medicine, which is always expired because we never get sick. Seriously. But bandages, gauze, that type of thing. I kind of think everything should be kept in these.

Behold the simple things in life that can save you space, bucks, and sanity:

An assortment of bins, caddies, closet organizers, white towels, and storage boxes for the scrapbooks I used to make. (See the caddies? See the caddie?)

Using Post-It Flags to get all your bills in order for the next day. Phone calls are my least favourite task, btw:

Um, these were the miracle find of 2010. I carry them EVERYWHERE. Some of your taco drops on your shirt while driving? PSSSSHHHHHHHHT! Notice a spot on your kid's skinny jeans that cost $3,007? PSSSSHHHHHHHT! Reaching for lip balm in your purse? You will always grab this first. Stock up!

These glorious little book shelves will save your life/sanity when clutter is your undoing. They're small but have deep shelves, they cost $20-$30 at Fred Meyer, and the best part, they fold into place, so no men required. I have these everywhere, and cannot express my love for them enough. Notice a stack of them in the master bedroom, stuffed to the gills? This was before we cleaned the closets, and now those shelves are perfection, have no fear:

I have long underestimated the power of flowers. A few stolen tulips, or anything your kids pick you, on a surface that will catch your eye often is sure to boost your spirits, even if your laundry is holding a scythe at your back:

Most of you are devout coffee drinkers, but there is some buzz for this sh-- I mean, this beverage. My motto? Whatever it takes!

Hopefully something here grabs you. I'm going to give thought to just the basics, and the motivation to tame them. I've got some music going here, and will do some research at friends' houses, to see what the main problem areas are and how to best them.

Have a great Sunday. LOST series finale here at 7:00pm, come one come all! I will have bath mats hanging everywhere, fyi.

Speedy Gonzales Got Nothin' on This Saturday!

2010-05-22T00:11:00.000-07:00

Holy shit.

Why do I continue to believe that the rate at which I live and operate are unique to each isolated week? I always think next week will slow down, and that for one thing, I will outline some sort of schedule for this blog so that Kasondra, a Texan, doesn't have me tried and convicted for breach of contract and executed. Also, it would be great to finish at least three of the books I'm reading, so that I can take them out of my purse. (!!!) This counts as cleaning, especially since two are textbooks. Psychology, for those who actually know what the fuck it is, is really heavy and breaking my shoulder.

Also, when facing certain physical limitations that make one's OCD say "whaaaat?" it is best, since quitting is not an option, to just go really really fast. I can now clean the house, between Friday and Saturday, since Saturdays are crazy busy, in two hours.

Please note the play list I've added to the blog, for your convenience and MOTIVATION! Feel free to send suggestions and/or to dance while you clean.

Yesterday, picture a person not unlike a telephone pole:

-Doing seven loads of laundry, including all mats, sheets, and omg omg omg all the skinny jeans in the house, lest someone be stricken with baggy-osis.

-Folding and put away said laundry.

-CLEANING THE ENTIRE KITCHEN! This meant stripping the refrigerator naked (putting kid art in my mama portfolio), pitching the goddamned coupons that just curl up and sway and expire no matter what, pulling the whole thing out and discovering the sobering reality that I too had dust behind there. Definitely the wrong side of the tracks of my house. I also used my Sonic Scrubber to bleach every single line in the linoleum floor, all the baseboards, the cracks in the dishwasher, stove, the refrigerator grill, the garbage can, and all while the sinks were bleaching. Ohhh mannn. This is all to say nothing of the typical clearing and wiping of surfaces, and putting the insidious invaders (syrup, candles, and a cantaloupe (?)) into a blessed wire caddy, which makes wiping the top so much easier, which I also did.

-Hanging my high-maintenance bath mats wherever.

-Sweeping/mopping the entire laundry room, and wiping down the washer and dryer.

-Disinfecting the door knobs. Mustn't forget the little things.

-Dusting both computers.

-Scrubbing all bathroom sinks/scrubbing toilets/polishing chrome.

-And still having time to fold a friend's laundry, telling her her husband's khaki shorts were women's, and making it to dinner with the Friday crew, plus unexpected and awesome diversions from K, the original prankster.

-Getting returns/exchanges ready for today, when...

(I almost don't want to tell you.) Old Navy is selling all flip flops for $1.00, and opening at 7:00am. They're only 2/$5.00 anyway, but this is really novel for some reason, and I promised Reilly. Plus someone just turned me onto Pina Colada Juliuses, and am I all over that. I am also getting my box spring replaced, exchanging some tights, scouring the PNW for those pajama bottoms, get Quinn to I's or R's, get Reilly tennis shoes (go Todd!), and ready for her splicing/editing marathon (I'm sooo grateful when other people teach them things like this.) Plus I have to re-make my bed after the men man-handle it, and finish like 337 chapters before my own evening ensues. Oy. Relief thy name is Darvocet.

This tangential prelude, for which I will not apologize because you're reading it of your own volition, is to explain the abbreviated list of goals for today. Apparently Saturdays have become pretty limber, thank God.

Starting pre-Old Navy madness (watch out ladies, Reilly will kick ass to get her red flip flops, to go with her yellow, purple, light purple, blue, periwinkle, and green ones, and I might just lay you out for no reason because I'm a sociopath like that. [Omg motherfucking ignorant bored bitches will say anything, when they need to be cleaning their slop huts!]) I must:

-Set the fans to expedite the drying of the stubborn bath mats.

-Ajax tub/scrub while showering. (I scrubbed all 4,000 tiers of the tension rod the other day while I was 35 minutes late for a date at Melanie's.)

-Throw away all the candles Reilly has amassed, possibly light them and have an ironic ceremony.

-Lint roll the area rug in my room with the floor-length model Quinn got me for christmas.

-Put all my clothes away.

-Windex exterior windows.

-Spend 20 minutes in the kids' room, where there is suddenly a much-needed DOLLHOUSE?!?!?! Curses grandparents!!!

-Clean dining room table and bring in extra chairs for dinner, which I'm hoping is less than three days late.

-Straighten dual vanity, wipe down.

-Check waste baskets.

-Sweep back porch as we speed to Starbucks and get ready to rumble for our footwear!

What can you make of this madness? People keep saying pictures, and I keep saying "Go to hell," but if it will help, I will think of something.

Meanwhile, do what you can. Remember that clean surfaces are fast and soothing, that if you have to pause, throw it away, make every movement count, you can wipe the counter down while you use the bathroom (yep), that there are lots of shortcuts, and that a little bit at a time goes a long way. And yes, I will still come do it, lol. I think some green-loving shit even made its way into my emergency bag in the car.

You're getting there. Loving the pictures, and I have not forgotten K, ~M~ , or Dumbass, who actually thinks video will inspire. I never forget, I'm just rarely on line and convince myself that the longer I go ignoring it, the more it will simmer down. So far es no bueno.

Andale andale!

And When the Cleaning is Done...

2010-05-16T01:21:00.000-07:00

Pull a dryer up 300 stairs. Oh, I don't always follow the rules. :)

My only regret was not having a bra on, obviously. But what are friends for?

Sciatica Saturday Semi-Sabbatical

2010-05-15T06:15:00.000-07:00

Alliteration anyone? It certainly won't clean your grout, but hopefully it will amuse you into forgiving me for being such a deadbeat with this blog of late. Excuses excuses, it fell off the back burner and into the oven, and we all know how often I venture in there... (Slightly less frequently than never.) So between remodels, travel, getting ready for a garage sale, weeding out the eyesores and reminding people that we are not a storage unit, my typical routine has gone through a dizzy spell. Hold onto your hat Kasondra, we're not down for the count, I just really need like one normal thing to stand up and remind me of my mission each week, hence my grasp on manic Saturdays.

The good and motherfucking bad news is that this year's random surgery (since 2006!) has been revealed, and it's the OCD antichrist. As if my pre-op limitations weren't suck enough, post-op I'm going to have to gouge my eyes out and remember past squalor I've survived, take my Oxycontin, and let Chelsea Handler take care of the rest. Don't get me wrong, no one has the healing powers of Jane Austen, my true literary love, but don't get me even more wrong, I can scarcely function on painkillers and Chelsea is smooth sailing. Will be unable to bend, like, at all, which is so amazing I could practically have an orgasm, so this is taking a huge pair of fabric scissors to my cleaning circuit.

I've been priming the kids to perfect some of the lower-reaching tasks, like rotating laundry and schlepping it to where I am, loading the dishwasher, wiping down all the cords and power strips that are so commonly forgotten. But they're a bit short (even Quinn at 5'8") to make beds to my liking. (Scream!) And no one scours a bathtub like I do. So, I've got some major improvising and/or radical accepting do beforehand.

Today, I am being guilted into garage saling, which I happen to love, it's just totally counter-intuitive when prepping to peddle our own shit (er, TREASURES!) in a couple weeks. But I did score a large Revere Ware pan at an estate sale a couple weeks ago for $4.00, which is exciting because the one we have is always in the goddamned dishwasher, which Todd loads like some zen master and I get impatient. No, I don't cook, but I mean, I make rice, so there's that.

Have you gotten this far? Seeing how refusing doctor's orders only punishes me, which only took one million times to learn, I am restricting my workload, but I'm pissed.

Today I have:

-Taken all the wet laundry out and out it in a basket, and reloaded washer (minimal bending!).

-Swept the kitchen with perfect posture, ditto Swiffer.

-Washed all the windows that require stretching up, and delegated lower glass to the kids, as well as emptying the wastebaskets.

-Dusted ceilings, fans, light fixtures, trim, everything at waste level.

-Rounded up kids' cra--goodies on the counter and wiped around them. I try to give them some slack on the weekends, so I only ask them to do the things that will make me crazy if left unattended (read: everything).

YET TO DO BEFORE IT'S TIME TO RUMMAGE THROUGH OTHER PEOPLE'S CAST-OFFS:

-Put 37465 things of B&B antibacterial gel in my purse.

-Pick paint for the kitchen, God I'm sick of looking at it.

-Wipe the top of the refrigerator, clear off the squatters (cereal, candles, wipes) who stubbornly make their way back to this surface, which should always remain clear.

-Pay Quinn extra to clean the toilets, which he's surprisingly good-natured about. That's why he has $302.00 and I have $16.00.

-Pay Reilly to do the sinks.

-Stand and fold all the laundry using the back of the couch.

-Water Todd's garden in exchange for stripping/making all beds. Sucka!

-Sweep back porch.

-Put my clothes away, re-hang wet ones. By the way, after the insurance company's settlement, and we had to buy new clothes, I have 52 camis and tank tops. OMG. I will never wear these in a lifetime, but they were SO cute and cheap and I can't even see the ones on the bottom rows with tags on, I'm disgusting.

-Cart the catch-all, garage sale-bound shit off the dryer and into the garage, which is so organized it's like a ... an eclectic hobo with good taste's paradise.

I think that's all I can squeeze in by 8:00am, showtime. Ready to touch everything that has already been touched by everyone in Salem. Hoo-rah. I really just need a print for the kitchen, and one for above my bed. Wish me well.

AS FOR YOU, SATURDAY SLACKERS:

-Get your laundry going immediately, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.00. Coffee or no coffee, do it.

-It's the time of reckoning with your dishes. Unload, re-load, enlist kids, stack remainders to the left, wipe down kitchen, you can never be too thorough! Cracks, cupboard faces, the oven drawer, the refrigerator grill, the garbage can, get jiggy wit those wipes!

-Toss all mats into the wash. This will ensure that you vacuum, and feel so good lying them all back down.

-Strip beds?

-Ajax commitment in the bathrooms? Don't forget to leave one toilet operational, as Murphy's Law guarantees that everyone will have to go the entire time you're cleaning.

-Make every movement useful. While you have your coffee, consolidate lists, freshen up bulletin boards, swipe table surfaces, stack things aesthetically.

-You will have already picked up errant garments of clothing because you are a good Moxling.

-Anyone feeling window-ish?

-I know, you'll all be out digging in your gardens. Except Mesina, who has the courtesy to live in London. Wait, courtesy? You bitch, bring me my baby!

-LINT ROLLER DERBY!!! This is, as Reilly says, "really satisfying." When she rolls the couches, ottomans, blinds, mats, etc., I forget we have Bella for 2.5 seconds.

-Hang up all your clothes. Ditto kids' clothes. Time to give anything away?

-Wipe your trim and baseboards, and take your duster/rag to all immediately visible areas.

BONUS CHALLENGE: Clean out your refrigerator! Oooohhhh, this is amazing.

Some miscellaneous areas to ponder: Closets, tops of things, like refrigerators serving as desks, bathroom cupboards, board games/puzzles, rearrange furniture (hooray!), and as always, caddies make life worth living!

Good luck, I look forward to pictures/excuses/flowers, lol.

Mini Manic Saturday

2010-05-08T08:52:00.001-07:00

The towering heap shown above is just my whites, which I hope to get through before I develop carpal tunnel, in the interest of the rest of the waiting baskets. Apparently we have all become performers, requiring multiple daily wardrobe changes. Plus I bought new towels for the new bathroom, but Todd was loathe to toss the old ones, so we are rich in towels, and encumbered by more laundry.

Quinn has something going on this afternoon, so once again, I will invoke my inner Speedy Gonzales to give this house the what-for, and then tackle some phone calls in my car, and hopefully find a Starbucks somewhere in this land in which to finish paperwork. That's the plan. Variables abound with teenage boys, so I'm trying to hold fast to this itinerary without my life depending on it.

Before we leave, the kids and I will be kicking ass doing the following, and fyi, I'm 1/3rd finished, because I'm ... always awake like that.

My load:

Don't forget this to get your blood pumping:

Get those basics done, and spend 20 minutes in each room, adding any of my tasks that you may have fallen in love with.

(Yes Kasondra, I'm getting on the schedule!)

Have a great Saturday.

Maddening Moxie FAILS (Long intro)

2010-05-04T18:48:00.000-07:00

To bide my time while I reconfigure Moxie's lackluster performance of late (that is, the blog, not the blogger. The blogger has been kicking ass.), I am posting various FAILS I have captured/experienced personally, as well as a few "before" shots from Kasondra, whose energy must come from some power pack, dang.

As a lot of you know, I am not big on screen time. You're much likelier to have to wrestle me into the chair than out of it. I totally love the convenience and majesty of all its tricks, but I just don't like being on the computer. This makes blogging a skoch inconvenient, you know? I read a lot of email on my phone, but I hate responding that way because my phone likes to play power trips about timeliness and reliability. Plus I'm always driving. So I got a laptop. No dice. A laptop is just a library in bed. Having Vaduz, Liechtenstein, Brown vs. The Board of Education, and endless Will & Grace gag reels at hand does not necessarily compel me to open my Blogger Dashboard. Plus, while copious recent DIY remodel jobs have been a total rush, it would seem rude to brandish them, like, "You know how you HATE doing dishes and laundry makes you want to murder kittens? Well look at this room we renovated in one day, or these new cabinets?" This is all to say, the dog ate my blog(s).

The following images may go unnoticed by some of you, or worse, by many of you, but these things are unconscionable to me, even as I stare at them, taking pictures.

Getting into a friend's car. Some people are worth this. Some people are not. This one is, though it was kind of a stretch given the DEL SCORCHO SAUCE, and the fact that I had to say that:

This is reason #38478 I don't shop at WinCo. I was abducted. I escaped after this...and the Mad Hatter dare of lore (shhh...):

This offends me on behalf of literacy AND cleanliness:

This was at Fred Meyer. I complained. I drill apostrophe propriety into my kids (try saying that five times fast!), I don't need this ignorant bullshit undermining me. Besides, what if some three-quarter-wit got distracted looking at this, thinking it looked wrong, and then forgot to buy the caddies with which to clean his/her house???

The following are pics were sent to me by Kasondra, whose inspiration has invigorated me anew. Like most of us, she too has a counter top mistaken by her family as a junk drawer. This is why I feel like all I do is run in a hamster wheel all day:

Closet 1:

After!

Yet another menacing closet:

Can't wait for the "after" shot Kasondra...at 4:00am, lol. I predict Franklin will have it spic 'n span by morning.

What are the rest of you up to?

Spring into Saturday, Moxie-style!

2010-05-01T01:37:00.000-07:00

Obviously I milked last week's remodel for everything it was worth, and hoped its fabulousness would leave you all in awe, and possibly tears, long enough to buy me some time not posting.

But I feel a mutiny. Facebooking Moxlings are crying out under heaps of near-fatal laundry, while others are concocting their own routines (traitors!) and even making their one year olds tow the line with their tender little fingers. (Just kidding Kasondra, I know Franklin's a natural-born Moxling.)

Then there was the little matter of my one true love, Mesina, giving birth to my one-third-son, Jared Alexander, so of course I've been oohing and awwing and gutting Old Navy like a fish. But if I know Mesina, her babymoon will find her dancing with her Dyson faster than you can say, "whythefuckdon'tyoulivehere?"

Now, unless you've just had a baby or some equally plausible excuse, it's time to get back into the business of fighting the ever-threating shit hole.

This weather has been a total tease, and I know that goddamned sun is out to thwart my mission, but hold fast to my promise that keeping your digs tidy needn't be as laborious as you think.

I was born wired to clean on Saturdays, every Saturday, and I remain hopeful that most of you can share in kicking off your weekends by putting a little muscle where your mess is. You can do this.

Today we have afternoon plans, which only makes me go faster, like a streak, carrying an array of solvents, hoping to God I'm not singing along to my iPod. As most of you know, I clean best in my underwear, starting the instant my feet hit the floor, but after thoughtlessly answering the door in my skivvies a couple times, I bought shorts on one of my Jared runs. Black shorts, because I clean best in black.

The house has been in pretty decent shape because we began remodeling in there first, so I don't want to slice my skin off with a razor blade every time I walk in. However, dust is a merciless bastard, and clutter will be the death of me. Now I'm left to details, which are not my favourite, but oh the psychic rewards.

This morning, I have:

-Stared at my vintage clock I got for christmas and mounted last night.

-Made the bed.

-Dusted all immediate surfaces and straightened lamps and speakers.

-Pulled the clean clothes out of the dryer and loaded the washer to the brim.

-Swept the laundry floor, Swiffered, under the laundry sorter, shoe rack, wastebasket.

-Put my dry hanging clothes away.

-Cried about having too many clothes.

-Gathered the kids' outgrown shoes.

-Kissed the shiny new shower liner and wiped down the front bathroom sink and toilet.

-Paced back and forth in front of the espresso maker, pretty sure it will call my bluff. Fucker.

-Stacked to-dos on the counter, and wiped it down.

-Loaded 11 dishes into the dishwasher, made it hum.

-Wiped the rest of the kitchen. (Hope to bleach sinks, but new black shorts make me nervous.)

-Windexed kitchen windows inside and out.

-Removed five things from the front of the refrigerator and from the side.

-Rounded up feral candles that have amassed all over my house and told them to fuck off.

-Swept/Swiffered the kitchen.

-Straightened/fluffed living room cushions/pillows/blankets.

-Organized dining table after making proper (semi-proper) stacks.

-FINALLY went to the bathroom.

-Got a kidney transplant.

-Wiped down back bathroom sinks/toilets.

-Restocked t.p., Kleenex, napkins, etc.

Damn that coffee.

What's left:

-Vacuum

-Windex all mirrors

-Change all sheets/remake beds.

-Wipe down both computers/desks.

-Reckoning with my media card, steal a bunch of pics Reilly took with her bad-ass camera, and delete the shitty pictures of me.

-Prod kids to get ready for semi-formal event. Break nozzle on Quinn's hairspray.

-Update kids' iPods.

-Use hand held Dirt Devil on bath mats. (So much easier than washing and air drying for 40 days and 40 nights.)

-Make the kids do away with their belongings, since I cleaned out their entire room a few days ago.

-Make them wipe five areas each.

-Make sure all laundry is folded and put away before we leave.

-Oh man it would be great to clean out the refrigerator, maybe a cupboard or two. It all depends on whether my coffee soups up my engine or drops my transmission. It's always a roll of the dice.

-Huh, I think that's a wrap.

Is anyone feeling it yet? Ready? I never said it would be fun, I said it would be
POSSIBLE. Here's what's possible:

-Brew your coffee/tea/Red Bull/tequila/whatever.

-Crank up your tunes.

-Make every trip across the room/house purposeful. Grab some toys, a dish, straighten a rug, gather clothing, strangle whoever left them.

-Say out loud, "I am stronger than this laundry pile" 100 times.

-Throw all obvious shit into the wash den.

-Unload/reload dishes.

-Wipe counters and stove tops.

-Toss every scrap of junk mail or unnecessary crap your eyes see.

-Recruit some kiddos. They're not innocent here.

-Be honest with your bathrooms. Activate Ajax commitment!

-Wipe down your kitchen and bathroom fixtures.

-Strip/remake beds?

-Consolidate colonies of overwhelming miscellaneous crap into one bin you can organize while sitting down later.

-It is not later. Don't sit yet.

-Spiff up your entryway, inside and out.

-Clean your toothbrush holders.

-Empty wastebaskets, bleach if necessary. (Tip: Do it in the bathtub, killing nine dirt bags with one er, stone.)

-Take a look around. If there's one thing tugging at the OCD you've inherited from me, text or email me. Whatever it is, it's possible. Break it down. Enlist the kids. Pull it all apart all over the house so there's no turning back. You can do it.

-Always toss, always clear surfaces, always straighten, and always wipe.

I'm so proud. And late. Okay let me know how it goes.

PS--We're about to have garage sale, and I highly recommend it. If you think it's possible, create some space wherein to chuck your pre-loved treasures. Cash for trash? It doesn't get better.

Put Single Ladies on loop, good luck!

Mad Moxie Make-Over

2010-04-24T10:56:00.000-07:00

Happy Saturday. Despite my lifetime tradition of cleaning like nobody's business on Saturdays, until last year, when I made it everyone's business, you will not find a scroll of to-dos today.

Instead, I'm posting pictures of that long-overdue storage room, which I was certain would spawn the next pandemic if it wasn't addressed immediately, plus we had a pipe dream up our collective sleeve.

This happened in less than 24 hours, and with no money, Moxie-wise.

There's still a thing or two do be done, but I'm pretty stoked, and lucky to have had as many helping hands as I did, because the stuff in this room was shaking my faith in humanity. (Yes I still had some in spite of you Anonymous Assholes--get a fucking life! You're all filthy, like, beyond filthy, so go...GO AWAY, lest I start posting specifics.)

In addition to this recent coup, tomorrow is Reilly's 10th birthday, so today kicked off with wrapping and Quinn and I are spending the day getting boxes, cake, balloons, eating at his favourite restaurant, hitting the mall, because he's 11 like that, hopefully catching a movie, and rejoicing in a clean house, new seasons, new chapters, and wonderful, happy, healthy, loving kids, who, even though they refuse to stay little, love freely and live freely. That's all my world needs.

Moxie's shame (though it's not garbage, it's stuffed animals, outgrown clothes, beddings, furniture, things we save in case our currently humble economic status should pop and find us in bigger digs. We're not hoarders, we're hopers, who gave up on organizing the shit long ago.):

Where'd it go? Holy shit! This Little Laptop of Mine, I'm Gonna Let it Shine:

Fact: It is IMPOSSIBLE to avoid getting paint on you. Especially if someone sneaks up and paints Salad Fingers on your shoulder while you're doing precarious edging. Fact 2: I am obviously unshowered, hence the rippled hair:

A room at a view:

Side table, which would be bare except we have a birthday tomorrow and some decorations, just because. Those who know me know how this will look as of tomorrow:

The opposite wall. Sub-woofers and a lamp. Now that's what I'm talking about. I'm also talking about burning the blinds alive and replacing them with more curtains, don't worry:

So, there's a LOT of recycling that takes place in transformations such as this one. Luckily, we did this the day AFTER our service picked up, and get to make this work for two whole weeks. Can we say take-out? Without bringing the containers home:

There was one minor expense. I bought myself a brand new queen sized bed yesterday. The whole sleeping-on-the-couch-for-three-years-thing finally got old and painful, and since I'm not skankalicious enough to sleep with whomever, just because it's tight quarters, I figure it was worth $799 for peace of spine. Paint me happy, it will go with the flecks of mocha I can't scrub off:

Beat that bitches! That is this year's Moxie Masterpiece thus far. This is not to say I won't best it if I can.

I hope you're inspired. Do what you can and hug your kids, a lot. They're tiny traitors who are burning to turn 10. :)

2010-04-22T11:50:00.000-07:00

It's like crack, you'll be cleaning for hours:

Not as sexy as Beyonce, but this isn't for viewing, it's to get your ass pumped for some cleaning action--now that's sexy. (Ew I just heard the LAME sound bite toward the end, sorry, lol.)

I'll give you a hint: The storage room (of lore) is empty, but it's not what you think.

Five quick mental jumpstarts:

1. Watch the Beyonce video from yesterday until you're BURSTING with get-up-and-go! Duh.

2. Set your timer for 20 minutes and clean your kitchen like it's 2011...

3. Do the 10 minute spray/toss/wipe/sweep in your bathrooms.

4. Trick, bully, or bribe someone into picking everything up off the floors.

5. Come help us paint! (Disclaimer* I'm not wearing a bra. I had to buy all new ones after the fire and am not sacrificing their purity.) We have Rice Krispie treats.

Regularly scheduled programming to commence at some point. Thank you for the texts and emails.

-Moxie

Click 'n Clean

2010-04-21T13:51:00.000-07:00

Play this 1,000 times and your house will be clean:

Then watch Joe Jonas dance to it on You Tube, it will put a bad feeling in your belly basket.

And I'm talking LOUD!

Fierce.

MANIC CLEANING SATURDAY!

2010-04-17T06:05:00.000-07:00

It never ceases to amaze me, nor piss me off, that I can scour, cull, banish, and sneak kidstuffs OUT of this house, and if I so much as go out to dinner, new and uninvited clutter will emerge from God-knows-where to mock me and undermine my efforts. I still hate pipe cleaners. And puppy toys. And puppies. But I digress.

Manic cleaning Saturdays have been my tradition since my youth, when my mom would work all day and I would clean the entire house while babysitting my little brother. I'm always an early riser, but on Saturdays I wake up absurdly early with electricity surging through my veins and mind, and I cannot stop until surfaces are weeping for being scrubbed and abused. Aaahhh...

So Manic Saturdays are back. Join me in tackling everything you can, in whatever amount of time you have. Don't do it for you, lest you conjure up reasons to do ANYTHING else (and man have I heard some cute excuses), but do it for me.

Here is an outline of our morning, and I always add extra tasks, much like a chef spontaneously adding some spice or other to make their dish just so.

Behold:

Hard work is good for kids:

You know the tricks: Music, coffee, timers, making every movement count, and CLEAR surfaces!

So grab your bag o'tricks and a solvent and get to work. Text me your progress!

Baby Steps

2010-04-10T10:06:00.000-07:00

New Moxling Kasondra has been kicking some serious ass, and has earned top honours here.

But now she has really outdone herself. Yesterday she emailed me these pictures of her cutie son Franklin "helping" clean up his blocks.

If a baby can do it, so can you!

Note his great care and precision:

See? Nothin' to it. Though I suspect you might feel more inspired if I posted pics of Franklin doing dishes, mopping, folding mountains of laundry, and scrubbing toilets. Kasondra, get him going, my weekend Moxlings (by half blood) are particularly tough customers.

20/20

2010-04-07T11:39:00.000-07:00

All my efforts to add 10 hours to each day are for naught, and despite being pretty multi-task-tastic, Moxie Clean hasn't been a formidable contender against fires, travel, my own home renovations, school, a schizophrenic laptop, schizophrenic assholes prowling around my blogs, kids' lessons, activities, and sports, so I haven't been blogging everyday. I get a lot of texts and emails asking me to get my shit together basically, so that this little engine can.

Here is a little ditty that could apply to any day, any afternoon, or any hour, and there's plenty of room for your own personal twists.

Yesterday I had SO much energy I could have torn the walls down and rebuilt the house, but I wasn't particularly keen on sustaining any one task for any length of time, such as painting or bailing out the kids' room, where the fountain of endless toys and Halo books flows. So I spent 20 minutes in each room, and was really satisfied afterward. Today I offer this brilliant little scheme to you. It doesn't feel like cleaning the house because you keep moving, like a wine tasting.

20 minutes in each room/area Some suggestions:

KITCHEN:

-Load dishes/migrate remaining ones to left side of the sink, wipe out and around the right side and surrounding counter.

-Sweep/Swiff floor.

-De-clutter/rearrange/minimize the stuff on your refrigerator without thinking.

-Dust around ceiling lights, trim, baseboards if you want an A+.

LIVING ROOM:

-Remove any dirty dishes, which there SHOULDN'T BE.

-Pick up and fold all blankets.

-Straighten couch cushions and throw pillows.

-Sound the alarm ("Kiiiiiiiiids!!!") to get rid of toys/games/etc.

-Put like things in a stack (ie magazines) and useless things IN THE GARBAGE.

BATHROOMS:

-De-clutter, wipe down counter.

-Wipe out/scrub sinks.

-Spray something in the tub shower, just for good measure.

-Shake bath mats into tub, which will wash away during the next shower, and then sweep the floor. Replace mats unless they are disgusting and need to be washed-washed. (The washing machine is already running RIGHT?) Finally, grab a handful of wipes and clean the lid, including the bottom side, the seat, bottom side, the rim, etc, and give some purposeful swipes to the base and the floor behind. That area tends to get really neglected.

-And, it only takes one minute to grab the Windex and clean the mirror. It's amazing.

BEDROOMS:

-Scan for dishes (for shame!) and trash.

-Strip bed of necessary. Make it if not.

-Gather all clothes quickly and try to put the clean ones in a bundle on the bed, and throw the dirty ones in the laundry (which is still running).

-Organize dresser tops and night stands, throwing away as much as possible, and wiping down all newly rediscovered surfaces.

-Dust?

-Tackle some windows?

-I KNOW there are some blinds begging for love, because even my own master bedroom blinds are like, "Ahem, remember me?"

-Assign kids 20 mins in their own rooms, and accept their best. This is easier said than done, and I suck at it. But if it helps one of you, blah blah blah, lol.

MISCELLANEOUS:

-Organize shoes/coats

-Put your Windex to use if it's out, and it is because you used it the bathrooms.

-Wipe down high chairs.

-Manic maintenance at your computer desk. (Throwing away is key!)

-Sort bookshelves.

-Dust TV/DVD/gaming systems thoroughly.

-Straighten and wipe SURFACES! (I <3 surfaces.)

-Give your laundry room a good sweep and possibly mop.

-Wipe down washer and dryer.

-De-clutter (applies anywhere).

-Empty and re-line all wastebaskets.

There, even if you don't have the time or energy for a full face lift, you can at least inject some Botox, 20 minutes at a time. Minus needles ftw!

You guys can do this, any time, any day. Doesn't 20 minutes feel so much more doable than "Ugh I have to clean the entire house?"

The answer is yes. Get on it!

Everybunny's Different

2010-04-04T09:56:00.000-07:00

Blech. A true OCD nightmare. It is a proven fact that it is impossible to get every strand of this infuriating crap out of the house before August.

I don't celebrate easter, but not for any reason with which I would accost you and try to dissuade you from your "woven" plastic pastel baskets, nor the putrid stench of dying eggs, not to mention eggs at all (PUKE!). Nope, I just don't. But I loves me some Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs, and getting up early to race to Starbucks (sometimes in my pajamas--gasp!) and get in some good cleaning, reading, folding, well let's face it, cleaning, before the family rises, like every other Sunday.

Today, while indulging some lovely laundry, Jane Austen, and my girlfriend, Chelsea Handler, I am grateful for this, my easter basket (bleached sinks):

So have fun with your egg hunts, your cutie easter outfits, your ham (Yes, I get in on some ham action, I'm not Orthodox anti-easter after all), your smiley sticky kids (take lots of pictures!), and we will figure out what to do with this foil-filled, all-that's-left-is-crap situation tomorrow.

Seriously, happy easter. :)

Moderately Manic Cleaning Saturday

2010-04-03T09:02:00.000-07:00

If the black sleet outside weren't reason enough to scooch down into the covers, surely my sleeping giant nestled against me, for the first time in four years, was reason indeed.

Getting right to business, I hate today. Primarily because the afore-detailed storage room hasn't been touched, and because all of our clothing came back from CRDN (insurance company who ruined it all), and I have to sift through to weep over so many brand new clothes, lost to shrunkenness. It's too bad some of the smaller people I knew are utter shitbags, otherwise they'd have a serious haul. So here's what this little project looks like:

This mess is the size of a Buick. So there's that.

What I've already done:

-Pulled the last load out of the dryer.

-Wiped down kitchen.

-Ate Honey Nut Cheerios.

-Dusted computer areas.

-Wiped down sinks.

-Took out Netflix.

-Swept laundry room.

What I will achieve before the Old Navy extravaganza, at which I hope to replenish some of my wardrobe:

-Make all beds.

-Run dishwasher.

-Scrub kitchen floors with bleach solution.

-Sweep/Swiffer bathrooms.

-Wipe down toilets.

-Vacuums bath mats.

-DUST x infinity.

-De-clutter pretty much everything.

-Wash the vinyl shower liner.

-Organize snack cupboard.

-Pretend to be deaf when Todd says, "How about that storage room?" And/or plead Old Navy sale...

-Vacuum.

-Fold laundry.

-Clear off dryer of kids' outgrown clothes (piles are mounting).

-Put my clothes away, and hope to expand my wardrobe, Jolie-Pitt style.

What's up with you guys? I've been a Moxie hack of late, with so much going on, but it would make me oh so happy if you could get a few things done, for my sake, naturally. Like maybe:

-Washing machine running its ass off all day.

-Dishwasher doing its duty, while you tend to the rest of the kitchen (wipe down counters, tossing old produce, trash, etc., putting dishes in the left side of the sink, wiping down appliances, cupboard faces, and finally, FLOOR.

-Take out all wastebaskets and garbage, bleach any gross ones. Re-line.

-Dust/organize computer desk.

-Strip (?) and re-make beds.

-Set your timer for 20 minutes and have a showdown with your living room.

-Assign age-appropriate tasks for your children, such as putting all their dirty clothes in the wash, possibly filling a bag with unwanted clothes/toys.

-Fill one garbage bag yourself, whether destined for the dump, a swap, Goodwill, or your trunk.

-Sweep non-carpeted flooring.

-Vacuum carpeted floors.

-Wipe down doorknobs.

EXTRA CREDIT FOR:

-Windexing all windows and mirrors.

-Tackling the tops of your refrigerators (possibly de-cluttering the fronts as well).

-Taking a damp cloth to your baseboards and carpet edging. You wouldn't believe the gunk in that strip of carpet. As Reilly says, "It is so satisfying" to wipe it up.

-Beautify one area of your home. Something that will please your eyes amidst chaos.

-Come and get your asses in my storage room, making a brief stop at this mountain of boxes. wpeokflskdjfahdgjsdgj.

Start your engines. It's fair to say it's a Starbucks day. Anybody want anything?

(Whip cracking)

Sinful

2010-03-28T10:17:00.000-07:00

I expect you all to flee in droves, but in keeping it real, I wanted to post the hell hole that is our storage room, which Todd and I are going to use our famously awe-inspiring rapport to clean today. The Lord is weeping, and I'm hoping to get impaled or maimed.

Here ya go folks, Moxie's dirty little secret:

An overview, though I couldn't push the door open all the way, thanks to every roll of wrapping paper I've ever had in my life:

Best I can see, a Britax car seat, an unforgivably giant pink horse, my old bedding set which I still miss, and bags of assorted shit:

Let's see...Pictures cannot capture the enormity of this disaster. Look closely and you'll see, buried, a mission table, a bar stool, a mesh cylinder nightmare full of Reilly's BELOVED stuffed animals, also known as "stuffedies." All told there are seven of these, some lined up outside the storage room, awaiting news of an opening. There is also a posturpedic foam mattress, and against the back wall is an unattractive shelf/hutch that was incredibly precious to my dad, who died a few years ago, because it has been in the family since the 1800's. But, I don't really like/want it. Is that reprehensible? More wrapping paper, trophies, papers, books, papers, books, papers, books, ad nauseum: (Oh, and a 4 ft. fan, a globe...)

This is just sick. Another bar stool (I had a wicked Linens-N-Things addiction once upon a time), MORE FUCKING wrapping paper!!! A pink plastic picnic tote-thing, which has been used for everything from Quinn's $400 Lego Jawa Sand Crawler, which he used to carry everywhere, and pieces would break off, and he would cry, and he would still bring it everywhere. We have used it for overnighters, laundry, cleaning supplies when friends have called in shit hole paralysis, possibly bathing, I don't know. It was sold by Target as a soft (and more importantly polka-dotted) cooler. OMG cute. Hope we can dig it out. There's also a Coleman cooler Todd has had for 20+ years. He literally uses everything until it's pulp. I also see a dreaded off-white garbage can I recently canned in favour of a white one, and the box to the new Dust Buster Max (my gift to the kids), and some box the size of a coffin. So here's that corner:

So you get it. It's bad. No, we are not hoarders. Well, I do buy alarming quantities of cleaning solvents, B&B hand soaps, caddies, apparently wrapping paper, and refills for things like Swiffers, lint rollers, and kid wipes. But the culprit here is that our house is 1 ft. squared, smaller possibly than our storage room, so when the imp of my mind orders me to get unused/outgrown crap out of the house, it goes to the landfill. Some of the stuff is straight-up garbage, no doubt. Other things are wonderful but have to be saved until we get a house that is at least 2 ft. squared. Other things have avoided the ax because of sentiment (a dangerous thing for an OCD mind), lots of it garage sale-bound, while the rest is there because, what the fuck, everything else is in there!

Todd and I made a pact to do this today, so naturally, I:

-Woke up at 6-something and LET TODD SLEEP.

-Did all the laundry.

-Swept the laundry room.

-Swept and Swiffed the kitchen.

-Organized my media card.

-Made chore lists for the kids and myself.

-Folded laundry.

-Crept about like some church mouse.

-Took pictures of this 2012 wasteland, hoping for sympathy.

So if this is not your day, I hate you.

(See yesterday's tip for cleaning your house in an hour, or come with Dawna's cattle prod to get me through this nightmare. I have coffee, cookies, chocolate, $$$!)

Super Succinct Saturday.

2010-03-27T06:55:00.000-07:00

Straight off, sorry I've been slacking on the comments. This blog doesn't notify me when comments post so I don't always remember to check. But I see many of you have been hard at work. And some new faces too: Kasondra, Danna, Nina. Then there's Dawna who could not possibly do all that she claims, but I think we should be sensitive because (shhhh...) she's a pathological liar and probably fragile. Nah, she's just fucking amazing and also an incredible mama and also GOING TO SCHOOL and her van is clean!!!

Wow.

Okay so how about this Saturday business? I'm pretty sure my Saturday lists/expectations have blown a few ISPs. As I stated in my maiden post, I have some advantages that most of you don't have, plus bleach running through my veins and a brain like a locomotive, only instead of "choo-choo" it says "scrub scrub." It's a double-edged sword for sure but for the purposes specified in this blog, I hope my compulsion will inspire, reassure, validate, and just keep you going, so that (CHIEF OBJECTIVE) your house is never one insurmountable shit hole. Just as small purchases add up to quickly become $1,000 at Target, so too do seemingly little chores around the house help to keep that shit-tastrophe at bay.

TODAY'S CHALLENGE: Cleaning your house in an hour. Yes, you heard me. An hour.

Ready? Get your coffee, get your music going, set your timers (yes, the above is the timer I use), and check this shit out:

-1. Start your first load of laundry, do all necessary rotating.

-2. Enlist those chilluns. This mess is largely their fault after all! :)

-3. Okay, set your timers for 20 minutes and load your dishwasher, soak remaining dishes in the left side of the sink, especially pans. Wipe your counters, not foresaking the filthy underbellies of your seemingly docile toasters, canisters, etc. Possibly fill the right side of your sink with hot water and bleach. Wipe down all appliances, grungy spots, sweep and Swiffer your floors, and if your main counter is in the kitchen, stack everything that is imperative and stick a paper clip on it, and throw the rest away, giving the kids ONE warning to come retrieve Legos, drawings, crayons worn to nubs...If you have roll-over minutes, you may apply them to:

-4. Yep, the Ajax. This takes three minutes, so cry me a river. Sprinkle it generously in as many bathrooms as you have, leaving one toilet available, because invariably, everyone in your family, my family, and Dawna's family will need to use your bathroom before you get back to clean.

-5. 20 more minutes: Summon the most ferocious hurricane of mess-hating rage and tackle each bedroom in however many increments will work in 20 minutes. If you don't get every little LPS saddle, fine. Scoop up laundry, dishes (God forbid!), misplaced items, make beds, straighten things like a fiend, wipe down anything sticky, cart the dud off to the laundry room.

-6. Rotate clothes and throw in the load you just acquired. Again, this is off the clock. These are the basics.

-7. Remember the loos? Well set another 20 and skip to your loo (sic) with an abrasive scrubber, a dry wash cloth to wipe fixtures because it's amazing, and follow this sequence: Scrub sinks, wipe down counters, possible arrange toothbrushes if you feel confident time-wise, tubs and showers next, checking to see if your vinyl liners are pink for positive. If so, throw them in the direction of the laundry room. Next up, toilets. this isn't bad as it seems. Brushes can suck it, do it by hand. Check your mats. Are they asking to be washed? If so, throw them atop the liner and sweep the floor quickly. If the timer has been kind, Windex the mirror, yes! Also, if you only did a lackluster job in the tub, you can always fill it with hot water and bleach.

-8. Rotate laundry. Liners on warm with a splash of bleach. Don't forget not to dry them. I get a lot of "oops" texts, lol.

-9. Ready for another 20? Start in the scariest corner of your house and remove/straighten/hide/wipe everything you wouldn't want fancy company to see. Work your way through the house, minus the bedrooms, who are quivering in fear. Fold blankets, tell the kids AGAIN that their toys go in their rooms. Removal and spot-dusting are key here, seriously. Arrange thrown pillows, make FloJo cry.

-10. 20 minutes away from some measure of serenity. Vacuum all carpeted areas. Period.

(Rotate until clothes are all dry and fold later if you can, but this ought to be a no-brainer.)

There. It may not be Buckingham Palace but it's a hell of a lot cleaner than it was, and you only spent an hour doing it. Put your liner back in the shower, and treat yourself to whatever frou-frou products blow your hair back. You earned it.

I might have to allot a few more 20's, since we're mid-remodel, plus eBay invasions, bills who have learned to speak, dust that has learned to breed and sneer, a back porch that will forever be the bane of my OCD existence. I bought matching million gallon totes for all Todd's special gardening, BBQ-ing, what-have-you-ing tools, and so those went in nicely, and fuck me if the next week, more things weren't stacked ON TOP of the bins! What??? Ugh, I'll be kicking some serious ass. And so have you. Let me know how it goes.

Roll With It

2010-03-21T17:35:00.000-07:00

My house has seen a domestic like never before. Corners unknown for 12 years, new furniture, new blinds, valances, bedding, rearranging, sorting things into caddies, painting the walls, bleaching anything that can't run away, teaching the kids innovative tricks for making their chores less gruesome. Funny, they do not want to live in a filthy house, but they don't exactly skip-to-the-lou when it comes to chores. Although I did overhear Reilly on the phone this morning, as I labeled a caddy, saying, "Don't they know we're an OCD house?"

A part of me chuckled, for while I would always rather they lean towards the cleaner side of life, I have worked really effing hard to impart good habits in them without drilling the need to re-check locks 4839857 times, or cry if the bedspread is crooked, not to mention get short of breath and livid at the sight of clutter and water spots. So no, my kids do not have OCD, they just know that I do, and that I set the tone. So OCD by proxy perhaps...

Having recently accomplished so much, with the help of my amazing children, super-fab friends, Todd, who snarls at my grandiose planning but then has to make sure it's all done correctly, and then loves the end result, my brother for loaning me his drill (for the kids' new curtains and the valance in the bathroom), I set out today to get all laundry done, sweep, throw things away, and generally:

MAINTAIN THE SHINE!!!

What I have found myself doing for the past two hours is a task borne of our great misfortune of washing a new purple microfleece blanket with a shitload of other things, covering the house in more purple fuzz balls than it would even take to make the blanket. Kind of like when you wash a Kleenex and the sum total of the infuriating little bits left in the dryer would span a football field, though it was just one Kleenex. Like that. So I rolled the mattress whereupon Reilly slept during a sleepover, the couches, the ottomans ... (smooth two hour segue) ... and onto the canvas shoe racks, all the carpet along the baseboards, clothing, table runners, shower curtains, my hair (people lose like 200 hairs per day), the closet floor, ad nauseum.

So in an effort to keep up the steam without overwhelming, I want everyone to get their hands on a lint roller, and possibly arm your children (they're protected by the Second Amendment), and get after those throw rugs, welcome mats, and anything else you can think of. It is worth buying/using refills too!

So come one, come all, and post your clever lint action, pictures welcome!

Mindful Midday Saturday

2010-03-20T10:41:00.001-07:00

Today is all about music. Fresh music. And fresh coffee. Even for you east coasters and Egyptians and selfish half-Brits who are too pregnant to cooperate. All of you, brew up a killer playlist and some java and let's save what's left of this beautiful day.

I haven't been to Starbucks in four months and decided today that that was really fucking stupid and pointless and screeched in and ordered two of everything, including the cute kiddie thermoses that are nine years too young for my kids, because Starbucks mania is serious business.

Pre-screeching, I:

-Made beds.

-Wiped down front bathroom.

-Gathered delicates such as runners, to be washed.

-Narrowed all laundry to be folded into one bin...which does not mean I have one or two loads, it means I'm really adept at stuffing seven loads into one bin. And so can you, it's less overwhelming.

(Then picked up my muscles for the day, since we have some major renovating going on, and proceeded to screech/overspend, you heard that part.)

Next up (weep with me):
-School shelf or so help me god I will hang myself with my Starbucks receipt. I have friends here, dutiful children, caddies, and a LABEL MAKER! Why does this chore cripple me so? I hate crafts.

-Move Quinn's (lame yellow, ahem, antique from his grandmother...for REILLY!) dresser into the garage because I loathe it and it has a horrible mirror with precious antique streaks that never comes clean, and it blocks the window.

-Replace with his original brown dresser that matches his new bed. All of the wiping and dusting involved in this swap, plus, hopefully, some sneaked culling of toys/clothes...

-Tear down blinds in there and hang a gorgeous new green curtain panel with a fantastic rod.

-Hang valance in the newly-spiffed-up bathroom, with equally bad-ass brackets.

-Oh, the kids will be humming along on their lists. (To be made shortly, once I survey the neurotic details and force them to care.)

-Fold the laundry during something new I'm trying, called a break. Any tips?

-Put all my clothing away in my amazing new showcase closet. You know, the six clothes I have left after the fire. Yesterday Ty (Farmers Insurance) said he felt pretty confident that we will receive our full reimbursement next week. He's very nice, but he's en route to Brasil right this second, for two weeks, so I'm sure his mind is brimming with worries that all my ruined flare jeans are irreplaceable and that even Torrid is selling skinny jeans. Fuck trends. I'll probably have to go to the same consignment shoppe wherein I peddle my wares to get my old jeans back. Win/win!

-Wipe down/sweep laundry room, and the ORGANIZE (the "O" word!) the cupboards. You know, laundry detergent, extra detergent, fabric softener, light bulbs, dead batteries, old cell phones, some live batteries, mixed in the battery bone yard ("Oh Reillyyyyy!"), various cords, and anything appliance or could-be-useful-looking. Dread. Plus I know there will be a spider.

-All outward bound items go on the dryer. So if you bring me a dish, next time you come, look on the dryer and you will see it. If said sorting doesn't kill me, and make me beg for EST, I will remove everything I can from the dryer and stand back in wonderment of the laundry room, and the cupboards you never knew were so disgusting. Then I will become manic and go buy new mats.

-Empty all wastebaskets/re-line.

-Sweep/Swiffer every floor, vacuuming all carpeted areas.

-Getting medieval with my lint rollers, and arming the kids with them too. Todd says it's cost-prohibitive to wash everything we own everyday because Bella lives here, so I soothe my mind by lint rolling, and wash bedding whenever he's not looking. :)

-Windex mirrors/windows, inside and out since it's so nice out.

-Possibly wash/hang dry the canvas laundry sorter bags.

-Put bags of Quinn's and Reilly's outgrown clothes *somewhere* for Pete's sake. Ugh.

-Clear all surfaces.

-Sort one last bin in the back vanity, and organize under Todd's sink, where there are still-sealed (since we never used them) things of baby powder and slimy bath toys circa 2001.

-Start drinking, and get cracking on some birthday magic for a lovely lady. Gifts borne of drunkenness are amazing...or total shit. We'll see!

Okay, since y'all don't have dressers 'n shit to haul around, how about:

-All dishes, with the full kitchen wipe down, including floors.

-All laundry washed, folded, and put away by bedtime.

-Give each kid 5-10 tasks. They can do it!

-Clear two important surfaces.

-Wipe bathrooms down to whatever degree is necessary. check vinyl liners for pink scum. If it's positive, WASH! (Don't dry, duh.)

-Dust high and low.

-Wipe down your computer area, and if you really want to feel like Superperson, wiped the baseboards and cords!

-Do one ABSOLUTELY HORRIFYING task and post all about it. Comments are acting up again, so if you email me I will post them, sonofabitchin' comments.

-BONUS: Tackle one cupboard/drawer/wing of closet/etc. Do it, I'll make you labels in one of 29 fonts!

Call it a day. Join me for drinks. Read a book.

*Disclaimer--I really hate the school shelf and can't make any promises.

On your marks...

UPDATE: Per multiple requests for photos of our unprecedented progress, I'm posting the school shelf and laundry room cupboards. You can't see the dust wiped clean, the bits of things that suddenly occur when kids touch scissors, the trash I mistook for sentiment, rogue erasers, NON-Dixon-Ticonderoga pencils (!!!), damn. The laundry cupboards somehow had a glorious solution of detergent and OxiClean all over the tile shelving. Talk about a good time. Bags of batteries, old cleaning sponges, and grabbing a handful of thumb tacks. Twice. We have also taken the disgusting white/beige/possibly mauve blinds out of the kids' room, moved Quinn's old antique eyesore dresser out, and brought his new one in, with lots of DustBusting and secret throwing-away-of-things-forever-unknown-to-my-daughter. But now we need to go buy a drill, which = stopping, which always poses the risk of staying stopped, because now we need two showers, a trip to the store [ = eating out = going to Old Navy = going to Torrid] so we'll see how we do. But for now, I am proud and thankful to brandish this awesomeness:

It's possible bitches! It is!

Moxie Miracles!

2010-03-18T09:00:00.001-07:00

In a brilliant maneuver to pretend like I never promised to organize my school shelf and laundry cupboards, both of which have been bound and gagged indefinitely, I am posting our recent pick-me-ups instead.

As you may know, I despise our front bathroom, you know, the one everyone uses/judges? We've remodeled the master bath three times in 12 years, the most recent ending in Todd being swindled out of $1,800 and our still not having the door the guy stole. Not a surprising outcome considering the person who recommended him, but still. It's very modern, it's just ghetto. The front bathroom, which the crook was slated to remodel/ruin/steal next, is the epitome of manufactured home shame. Omg. The walls are decrepit, the fixtures are shit, the tub/shower are BEGGING the Baby Jesus to be replaced, and the white paint might just be primer. I don't know. I was pregnant when we bought it and my mother-in-law did the touch ups, and well, she's like 181, and has The Depression mentality, thus primer = white. The cherry on this cake-o-crap was when (someone) who required frequent mirror usage, sat on the counter and it broke off the wall. Obviously I went to great pains to convince this guest that it must have been a fluke, that people who weigh 250 lbs. sitting on flimsy counters is perfectly reasonable. Bah! For the record, it's not the 250 lbs. that I have an issue with, for I myself am in that ballpark, I just don't sit on people's iffy cabinets so I can preen . Finally, I reached my wits' end.

At the same time, I was about to strangle my closet with my bare hands, inasmuch as there was no way I was about to touch it at all. Seriously, I went to grab one box in which to wrap a gift, and narrowly avoided an avalanche. An avalanche of surreptitious crap, an avalanche of thrice-used tissue, and an avalanche of memories. Last weekend, armed with my fancy new label maker with 29 fonts, my daughter, and a group of friends, the closet was defeated by K.O. I scarcely had time to take a cleansing breath before a truck load of mostly shit was in a heap on my lap. I was faced with organizing childhood pictures and myriad belongings of my dad, who died a few years ago, which pained me more than I expected. Then I was forced to reduce my gift wrapping warehouse by 75%, which felt so good. I also tossed the entire bin of every letter/card I've ever received in the mail spanning my entire life, as well as gifts and lies that left room for real things. I wish I could post a 'before' picture, but I didn't really realize that they were starting. Still, gather 'round and enjoy their triumph:

Left side:

Right:

And after piling on the bed to sleep like a bunch of puppies in the welping pit, these bad-ass broads woke up and did this. Everyone got in on it. My OCD went down at least 15%.
Pre-intervention:

Todd and Reilly:

Shift change:

Reilly the ultimate task-master, and label maker figure-outer:

Moxie madness perfection-check:

Voila! Two hours later, minus the blinds I bought that were too big. (Additional pic forthcoming.)

New blinds are orgasmic. (Towel chic just wasn't working for me.)

I almost fainted upon discovering this little miracle. My blinds shall remain pure:

Got inspiration?

Moxie Medal Goes to...JENNIFER!!!

2010-03-16T12:38:00.000-07:00

One of my prized Moxlings, Jennifer, single mama of two beauties, with a full-time job, school, and who even volunteers, recently showed me her triumph over the bathroom cupboard which was haunting her, and I am really excited to post her success to inspire all of you as well.

Stage 1: We all know it.

Stage 2: Committed.

Voila!

Thanks for sharing lady, and now I must broadcast my own dirty little secrets in hopes of feeling shamed into overcoming them. These are the demons I must slay. Today. The first cut is the deepest:

I loathe the school shelf, like nothing you can imagine. It's because of the crafts. They overwhelm me. I always buy them, and feel like such a good person for it, but when the kids reach for them, I choke. There. I said it. I'm a craft-hater. We'll see how this goes.

Next up, this hell hole, which I pretend isn't there. The laundry room cupboards. Lord knows what I will find or the sailor that will emerge from my mouth.

Luckily, I'm armed with these beauties, my new arsenal. Amazing.

I shall post later with glorious pictures or brilliant excuses.

Okay Kasondra--I haven't forgotten. Is your mom there yet? Hopefully not. I have but 12 seconds to type out an outline for your cleaning sequence, but here goes:

-Begin with point of entry and work your way back.
-BLAST YOUR MUSIC!
-Keep washing machine and dishwasher running!
-Sweep entry, wash mats, make the first visible pop. Folded blankets, wiped surfaces, neatly stacked books, weird shameful piles hidden or straightened.
-KITCHEN: Wash all dishes, wipe down counters, sweep/Swiffer floors, all appliances, knobs, 20 minutes tops.
-Sweep all non-carpet, vacuum all carpet.
-Hang coats as you race through, scoop up trash, magazines, etc.
-Bathrooms: Wash mats, Ajax, depending on how picky your mom is, but definitely scrub the toilet and sink. Windex the mirror, and hang new hand towels.
-Her quarters: Make the bed, create open space for her bags, a surface for her book, water, yo-yo, whatever, an extra blanket, Windex her window, spray some Febreze.

This is the fast version, under an hour. Toss all clean clothes onto your bed. If she's already there I'm a total douche bag, and I hope she doesn't disown you. I will write you a note. :( But I hope it's a success!

MELLOW Moxie Saturday

2010-03-12T21:54:00.000-08:00

(^That's Ajax, not grime, duh.^)

Hey, even Saturdays need a break once in a while. This is just such a Saturday. Moxie has been in an epic pre-spring-clean-a-thon, so my Saturday list is a little slim. Still, there are always things begging for help, if you listen carefully enough.

This morning, I've heard:

-A pan soaking in the sink after the best enchiladas ever last night.

-Sweep/wipe down laundry room.

-Sweep back porch.

-Wipe kitchen down.

-Sneak some of Reilly's stuffedies out of her menagerie while she and Quinn are in Seattle. I figure it's my right since I'm doing their chores today.

-Finish rearranging school/craft shelf, which vomited onto the dining room table after OD-ing on...you don't even want to know. May I just say, pipe cleaners, hot glue guns, 11 three-ring binders? Blech.

-Scrub/bleach kitchen floor on hands and knees.

-Dust EVERYTHING, since it seems to proliferate like there's not tomorrow when I'm out of town.

-Windex windows and mirrors.

-Change sheets. Curse bunk beds. They are such a joy to make!

-Sort 49759452967065927495 pictures on the desktop and media card, re-format picture program out of blasted Quickfile. I hate you Quickfile!

-Vacuum the car.

-Empty wastebaskets.

-Wash Bella's (ours) and Switters' and Mac's (Deborah's) bedding.

-Wipe doorknobs, heat up some sweet and sour chicken, and finish my book before going out with some friends for some long-awaited brain food, real food, cocktails, and god I hope I don't sing.

-Stop at the store and track down those new carpet shampooing Swiffer-type-things!

Are any of these tasks calling your name?

If not, here are some basics that always satisfy:

-Feed your washing machine its breakfast, and gorge it until your bins/sorters are empty.

-Don't neglect your dishwasher, as it's bound to be ravenous as well, and will get jealous. Stack all remaining dishes in left side of the sink, wipe down stove top and all counters, soak dishes-in-waiting.

-While you're at it, wipe down appliances, baseboards, and floor. You will love me after you hate me.

-Check your bathrooms. If you're not up for Ajaxing, Wipe the toilets down, shake the bath mats into the tubs so the debris can be washed away during the next shower, wash mirror, and wipe down/organize counter. Maybe sweep the floor. No, definitely sweep the floor.

-Tackle one cupboard/drawer/stash, in honour of all my excruciating de-cluttering this week. It's scary when you buy two new bookcases and they're full the instant they're assembled.

-Assign each child five tasks.

-Sit and fold laundry with your Pepsi, coffee, mimosa, what have you, and enjoy your Saturday evening.

I know the list seems long but I went easy on you. Really.

Okay bitches, ante up and get crackin.' I can't wait to read/see what you did. I've saved all the picture messages you guys have sent me, btw, lol.

Oh, Kasondra asked for my current You Tube playlist. This changes weekly of course, but this is what's getting my blood flowing right now:

1.P!NK (At Bravo)-- Me and Bobby McGee
2.Christina Aguilera, P!INK, L'il Kim, Mya-- Lady Marmalade
3.Sophie Ellis-Bextor-- Murder on the Dance Floor
4.Regina Spektor-- Fidelity
5.PINK-- Funhouse
6.Rusted Root-- Send Me on my Way
7.Mercy Me-- I Can Only Imagine
8.The Belle Stars-- Iko Iko
9.Brandi Carlile-- Closer to You
10.Rascal Flatts-- Where You Are(Shut up...shut UP!)
11.Ting Tings-- Shut Up and Let Me Go
12.U2 vs. Eminem-- Without Me
13.Cat Stevens-- If You Want to Sing Out
14.Miley Cyrus-- Party in the USA (Helps keep your kids going...mine hate it, lol.)
15.The Fray-- How to Save a Life
16.Hannah Montana-- Hoedown Throwdown
17.Mat Kearney-- Nothing Left to Lose
18.Kenny Rogers-- The Gambler
19.Brandi Carlile-- Caroline
20.Jackie wilson-- Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher
21.Adam Lambert-- One
22.john Mayer-- Say
23.Janis Joplin-- Cry Baby
24.Train-- Hey Soul Sister
25.Taylor Swift's Love Story on continuous loop will get a lot out of Reilly.

GO!

Moxie FAIL!

2010-03-11T22:34:00.000-08:00

(Insert riveting excuse for being so busy here.)

As a segue to my special edition on why the fuck people check common sense at the door in public bathrooms, I present this.

Case in point, a restroom/cesspool I had the misfortune of encountering recently in Capitola, CA. By far the worst I have ever seen,. The most disturbing scene is the glass on the toilet. Like, first of all, the cardinal rule is that THERE IS NO FOOD IN THE BATHROOM, even at home. But this? The only way I can resist gnawing my face off at the filthy ignorance of people is to pray that this patron had to guzzle a beer to be able to use the facilities. Oy vey:

Where's my bleach/Lysol/rubber gloves/Xanax? Just so I can sleep.

Thoughts?

MANIC CLEANING SUNSHINE SATURDAY!

2010-03-06T09:16:00.000-08:00

Don't you even try to assert your Sunshine Amendment rights bitches, we've got serious work to do.

I'm in the throes of organization hell, and will pay anyone who wants to come and tell me which things going into all my shiny new space-savers because I admit to being like, "What?" I keep getting distracted by updating everyone's iPods (damn you Lady Gaga), making grocery lists, and absent-mindedly making rainbows with my Sharpies, anything to keep my back turned on the shelving, bins, crates, and everything else that lured me to the check-out with irresistable bedroom eyes, then grew fucking fangs upon arriving in the house, gnashing, "Whatta ya gonna do now?"

Moving on, I know there's going to be a mass exodus into the sun's golden rays today, and yes, I hate you all because this is my one day to give the house the what-for, and I face the bonus tasks of throwing things out, not my favourite, and I also have Deborah's dogs, because Bella only makes me half crazy.

So here's the lowdown:

I must deal with three new closet organizers, which is a two-for because that means I have to draw my sword and slay three closets as well.

I also have to get under the sinks and admit that some of our "systems" are a fraud. Like I have a lot of half-used lotions and didn't-work-out shampoos that I haven't thrown away because what if someone else wants them? But let's be real, who comes over and hunkers down digging under the dual vanity going, "Can I have the rest of the Redken Heat Wave?" So bye bye reject hair product, and bye bye serious clink as well. We still have these semi-disturbing water-spitting whales under Todd's sink from when the kids were babies. Seriously? And like baby shampoo, and razor heads here and there like easter eggs. Not to mention drawers (!!!) and the fact that my closet is not only the next natural disaster, but a bevvy of beautiful things, artifacts that will be getting the ax, and things I'd really rather never see again. Once the closets and cupboards and shelving are done, I have to get painting, til midnight or one.

Meanwhile, I will be weaving in these must-dos:

-Run dishes and washing machine.

-Bleach all sinks.

-Ajax both bathrooms, except one toilet.

-All mats in the wash.

-Sweep/Swiffer all floors.

-Surprise kids with their treats and hope their exuberance will eclipse their three-times-too-large chore lists.

-Wrestle the 384978475897 cords under the tv as if I was the freaking Croc Hunter.

-Clean out refrigerator.

-Take soon-to-be-garage-sale showcase stuff off the dryer and into storage.

-Stare at the never-used home school math books and assorted texts for the 97th time and walk away.

-Upload more music.

-Get rid of old towels, who got voted off the island by the new amazing organic cotton ones.

-Segregate the adult books from the kids' library, using gorgeous new bookshelf.

-Dust like it's 2012!

-Scrub the bathrooms. Possibly set the primer inside the door.

-Clear all surfaces, meaning ultimatums, tears, whatever it takes. I hate projects!

-Take all the dogs out, one of the most unlikely pictures in my life.

-Put all clothes away.

-Go through kids' clothes, especially Quinn's, which are virtually brand new, as he skips 5'8" and soars on up toward six feet. Damn it's getting expensive. Just bought him size 18 Levi's. For those of who don't know us, he is 11. This will leave me with a stunning heap of really nice clothes to redistribute as time allows because motherfuck, I am over consigning. Onto the dryer I guess. Sigh. Vicious cycle.

-Do some lint roller magic. I de-fuzzed the horizontal strip over the blinds last week, and may I just say, I was pretty impressed.

-Windex all mirrors, windows, and tv/computer screens.

-Change sheets/re-make beds. Well, give the orders.

-Tidy up/sweep back porch, a.k.a. Todd's nest. Scowl at him.

That about wraps it up, wouldn't you say? I'm not sure how any of you will be choosing from the aforementioned tasks all the way from the park, you SELFISH BASTARDS, but that's what I'll be up to.

Joy, your coupons are woefully crooked, it's bugging me to no end. Fix.It.!

Turn on some tunes, put your hair in a ponytail, arm yourself, and let the good times roll!
-

Things That Make Me Go Mmmm...

2010-03-04T08:43:00.000-08:00

New white organic cotton towels:

More later...

Thoroughly Thursday

2010-03-03T11:00:00.000-08:00

I've begun my post-fire retail frenzy of replacing that which was lost or ruined. It is not as amazing as it may seem. Some things are just irreplaceable. But I wasted no time consoling myself with my own do-it-yourself Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, only, after the shopping, I'm stuck. I can clean all the live long day, but I lack vision when it comes to my closet, which is full of treasures, but is as precariously stacked as a Jenga board, after 15 turns. Oy. And I have the eensiest trouble throwing things away. I have every piece of mail I've ever gotten, all separated by sender/date. There are things I really love given by people I wish I had never met. There are things of my dad's I feel obligated to keep because he died a few years ago, but I really don't want them.

I.Have.Crafts. That alone will require Scott to come and sit with me.

So today is all about organizing. How ironic is it that I work my ass off to maximize our space, and I'm currently tripping over baskets, bins, totes, shelving units, cans of paint, and some shiny new things eager to become part of the family?

I want to post before pictures, but then I'd have to send Anthrax to each of you in the mail, and Todd needs the computer, like immediately, so off I go to walk in circles as if I have a peg leg, waiting for one dreaded task to suddenly become more alluring (read: less detested) than the others.

So today, pick a closet, book shelf, toy sorter, desk, cabinet, cupboard, or hutch, and pull EVERYTHING out, straight away. I'm telling you, it needs to be wiped down. Then throw everything away you can possibly part with, and then conjure up magical system for putting it all back together, and text me, because I don't know what the hell to do with pipe cleaners, and really resent whoever bought them.

No, I think I will take pictures...

Move Over Moxie...Temporarily

2010-03-01T17:18:00.000-08:00

Today, the Moxie spirit is with my dearest friend Sam, a freelance Moxling, whose beloved mother passed yesterday following a very long and tremendously courageous fight with cancer. Sam's strength makes Moxie seem like the little engine that ... might.

So this afternoon, for anyone perusing, please count your blessings, kiss your people, get under a blanket with them and watch Spongebob. (Painful I know, hence my typing and not doing.)

Call today's efforts good and maybe make a list of upcoming priorities. Or wait for me, and I'll spank you with a horrifying list, and as always, wonder why these tasks make me so happy and everyone else hide amongst the debris like E.T. did with the stuffed animals.

Inspired (???) by some recent FAILS I've witnessed in public restrooms, I'm going to need to devote an entire post to essentially, What the Fuck is WRONG With People? Arm yourselves with your clever maneuvers to evade germs and filth and particles just waiting to pounce onto your clothes. OMG ew!

Damn, apparently Spongebob is having a marathon, so off to grab my blankie, a baggie for the TWO teeth that just fell out of Reilly's head unexpectedly, and sneak in some folding, sorting, and assembling. Did you really think I could just sit there? I can love and kick ass, that's why I'm Moxie.

Splendors of Sunday: Pick Me Ups!

2010-02-28T00:52:00.000-08:00

I'm sure I've mentioned that in addition to cleaning endlessly to make my house bigger, I also (over)use caddies and totes, as if they are sublets or something. Harbouring my treasures whilst taking up minimal space. I'm a genius, really.

After Manic Cleaning Saturday, I went and loaded up on pick-me-ups that are certain to increase our square footage by at least 1,000 feet. These are things that are either a) aesthetically pleasing, or b) have great potential, so I needed to share. It needn't take all your energy nor money to spiff up your space.

Unfortunately, it requires both to spiff up mine:

First of all, with St. Patrick's Day around the corner, I got this for my kids. See how the papers on the left are now invisible, lol?

Due to recent kitchen fire and my hatred of residue, I treated myself to all new drip pans, for when other people cook:

Now that everyone in the house shaves (sniff), I've given up trying to hide my shi-shi razors, and have displayed them for all to share:

The twins, new white garbage can, which kicks previous off-white garbage can's ASS, and my new Swiffer Vac. Fraternal twins, but still, double the pleasure...

At long last, we have outgrown my brown-and-turquoise phase from 2006. The pillows were the final touch. The red ottomans have been total bitches, sneering at the old has-been pillows. I see these every time I go to the store, but tonight they literally jumped into my cart like so many feral cats. There are pictures of the old ones in the archives, but rest assured, they are already forgotten:

Need.I.Say.More:

My borderline obsession with Dixon-Ticonderoga Number 2 pencils is well known. Tonight I found silver ones. My kids are certain to go to college with these:

Okay okay, life's not, like, encrusted with diamonds or anything, I also came home to this towering eyesore in what was already the most embarrassing computer room in the world:

And who can sleep with Jabba the Hutt and friend atop the microwave? Quinn has been selling off his older pieces on eBay, and is basically a millionaire, and he sets his wares in places like this BECAUSE OF ALL THE CLUTTER!!! Still, I'm proud of how enterprising my kids are:

I mean, FAIL (faints):

I also brought the kids some pick-me-ups, this was Reilly's loot:

I'm stoked to about my new ... er, brain candy, but as you can see from that mind-numbing picture from the seventh circle of hell, I still have plenty of work to do.

I hope each of you is able to do something to shake things up and keep you sweeping/dusting/Swiffing/scrubbing/etc.

Another Saturday Closer to Spring!!!

2010-02-27T01:44:00.000-08:00

Welcome Kasondra, Joy, and hopefully Nina, if my solution worked for you. And welcome stragglers, SAD sufferers, those who've lost that lovin' feeling, and those with excuses aplenty.

Saturday has long been designated as my manic cleaning day, and it is a custom without which I simply cannot function. I set ridiculous goals, meet 95% of them, am drained of all gratification within five minutes, and take a Xanax to ward off the coffee heart attack. It's good times, trust me.

I've been thinking about spring cleaning, and how it's right around the corner. What I really want to do is just come clean all your houses, but in lieu of this, I'd at least like to open the forum for you guys to express your main goals, large and small, and see if we can't break it down into doable spurts. (FYI: I hate the word spurt, just sayin.') So grease those wheels and let the good times roll, or at least the ideas.

In other news, after being stricken with a nasty case of being at someone else's house and being too shy to object, I saw an episode of Wife Swap, wherein some Taxidermy, hunting, raw-meat-eating wife switched lives with the most organized lady in the world, a woman who makes Kate Gosselin bow. This lady had everything stacked and beautiful, and while I am strongly opposed to forest green anything, except the forest, her totes made me weep. Her secret? A label maker. Damn. I've known many who have romanced these utilitarian treasures, but I always scoffed, thinking it could never happen to me, since I don't use spices. But holy shit you can use these for everything. I'm going to label everything. My children. Or maybe nothing, because it would seem, spices and microscopic jewelry aside, that common sense could lead a person to the cups. Right? Anyway, I bought one, we'll see. The fonts are what sold me.

As for Saturday, rather than scrawl out my usual mania, I thought I'd take a kinder, gentler approach. I'm breaking the house into quadrants and/or rooms, and suggesting a few ways in which to spruce up those spaces. Behold:

First things first:

-Start the laundry and the dishes.

Next: Kitchen

-Do all dishes.

-Wipe all counters/appliances.

-Sweep/Swiffer floors.

Bathroom(s):

-Ajax in the sink, tub, and toilet. Scrub when you can.

-Sweep/Swiff floors.

-Toss mats into the wash.

-Windex mirrors.

Bedrooms:

-Strip/re-make beds.

-Pick up debris, in whatever form, off the floor.

-Organize night stands.

Living room:

-Pick everything up off the floor.

-Fold blankets. If you have pets, put blankets in wash.

-Wash a window or two.

-De-clutter.

General:

-Vacuum all carpet.

-Dust til you're blind.

-Do something drastic (Jennifer can help you).

-De-clutter, de-clutter, de-clutter.

-Create clean surfaces.

-PLEASE come help me organize my closet. My talent is cleaning, not organizing.

-Extra credit for getting in your car with any suction device. After going out with a friend last night, I was remiss to find this, amongst other debris. (I've already called A&E's Intervention.)

Croc corn. :( Oh friend.

Okay Moxlings, brew up your coffee and kick Saturday's ass clear to ... Sunday I guess.

Ready, Set, SATURDAY!

2010-02-20T07:34:00.000-08:00

Dude.

Okay now that I've gotten that off my chest, let's kick some laundry/dish/clutter/grime/smudge ass!

Welcome Kosandra, Joy, and hopefully Nina! (Joy, I noticed you did not come over as I slept to fix my problem. Selfish.)

(The cord to my laptop broke like six weeks ago, and neither replacement worked, so I'm forced to research and try to figure out why this has been so difficult. Even the universal cords were agonizing failures. So you Moxlings have been on your own. Furthermore, when we had our hard drive wiped recently, somehow all pictures past, present, and future, were reformatted in some nightmare CD cover-looking program and rendered useless until we can change the format, a task for which I'm as qualified as I am to teach unicycle riding.)

So have we all fallen off the wagon or have we been programmed to at least keep some basics under control? I know many of you are under tremendous strain, and so obviously you all are exempt from my ass kicking, but when I'm overwhelmed, I clean. For that matter, when I'm ecstatic, I clean. Anyway, for those of you who think some spray-and-wipe action might boost those spirits, join me in some delicious Saturday scouring!

I can't post my hand-written OCD scrawling, per the aforementioned pictastrophe, but type is easier on the eyes anyway.

Since my morning is limited, I have to make the most of my muscle, shift into overdrive, and totally bust it out. Ahem, That means you have to as well.

First things first:

-Make breakfast for our guest, shove Advil down his/her stubborn vegan, pill-hating gullet.

-Round up all rogue dishes, you know they're there, and take them to the sink.

-Load and run the dishwasher, grabbing the hopper out the instant the wash cycle is over so as to slam some serious caffeine.

-Put all bath mats into laundry.

-Round up the half load of laundry beckoning, supplementing it with the jeans and various outfits of questionable standard Reilly will undoubtedly have stashed between her dresser and closet wall. (When I say questionable, I mean that I don't like them, not that she dresses like some trollop nor harlot.) Also I may peel Quinn's hat off and accidentally lose it. Strip some sheets and voila! A whole load.

-Make chore lists for kids. (FYI: I got the new Swiffer Sweep Vac for Valentines Day, and since the kitchen floor is Reilly's job, she has been positively gushing about this wondrous invention. I would post a picture, but you'll have to bear with me, Flintstone-like.)

-Put all my hang dry clothes away. Yearn for my clothes lost in the fire.

-Sweep/Swiffer laundry room.

-Board up computer room, because I just can't take it.

-DUST DUST a thousand times dust! Start wherever is easiest and ride that train all the way! Ahhh.

-Get your trusty wipes from their proverbial holster, and wipe your kitchen down, sparing no crevice nor appliance. Quick like, I have a get together later!

-For those of you who with a sick fondness for the bigger job, I've been itching to clean and organize the refrigerator. I'm tired of accidentally grabbing chocolate soy milk instead of vanilla. Chocolate fails.

-That's right, I don't like chocolate, are you still with me?

-Go pour your Ajax all over sinks, tubs and toilets, preferably leaving one toilet/sink available for the 2097502975 people who will inexplicably have to pee before you get back in there.

-Back to the kitchen, time for floors. Sweep first, and then either a) Swiff your way to utopia, b) stick with your old mop, perhaps out of sentiment, or c) get on your hands and knees with solvent of choice (my choice): bleach water. Once I'm down there I end up scrubbing up the refrigerator, and the garbage can, which is off white, something that pisses me off to no end, and I always think scrubbing it will help, but it's still off white. Everyone knows all household plastic (wastebaskets, laundry baskets, hangers, etc.) must be white.

-Buy a white garbage can today.

-Rotate laundry.

-Fold all blankets in the living room.

-De-clutter living room end table crap.

-Get in those bathrooms, start with sinks, scrub-a-dub, showers/tubs, tossing vinyls liners in the wash on medium, warm, re-hang. I have recently learned, at a friend's house of all places, that even on gentle, an 88-cent liner will shred, while a $1.09 liner will hold up. (!!!) Finally, everyone's favourite, the commode. The more you clean this puppy the less gag reflex action you'll get. Promise.

-Beat guest(s) over the head so they will get up and play.

-Clear and wipe down dining room table, not just repositioning clutter, but either tossing it or putting it away.

-Peek in kids' room(s) and have appropriate response.

-Sweep bathroom floors.

-Vacuum all carpet.

-One last wipe-down, de-clutter, then treat yourself to a shower before dashing off to three million places. Or, stay home and enjoy the shine, but that's not me. In fact, I already feel late!

On your marks, get set, GO!

(*Not proofread unless otherwise noted.)

Look what dutiful, gives-herself-insufficient-credit Moxling Jennifer did today! The jutting out desk wasn't previously there. I LOVE bold new arrangements. To use your word Jennifer, "EPIC" WIN!

MOXIE'S BACK WITH A MANIC ATTACK!

2010-02-13T09:25:00.000-08:00

Well we've had our fun with house fires, not to mention the miscellaneous host of other blows to the heart and mind. Wow.

Note: Today someone dear to us is missing, and I am praying to any power listening for this person's safe return.

We just checked out of the Marriott and am so eager to scrape what feels in my mind like algae off of every surface, I can barely sit still to type it all out. Dashing back and forth to grab movies, food that needed to be used (we were there almost three weeks), clothing, mail, etc., somehow reduced our house to a disaster site of which I couldn't even bear to post pictures. Things scattered for miles across the counter, blankets (grrr...), and the oddest of ends. In fact, so stuffed to the gills is my mental list today, I will have to post by room.

I sat on the couch last night and suddenly it was 7am. Quinn and Reilly were asleep one inch away from me. Even with my heart heavy with worry, I had to smile that my shaving young son, and feisty independent daughter slept thisclose to their mama the minute we got home. Thankful doesn't being to describe it.

So as I rubbed my eyes and surveyed the aftermath, er, house, I gathered a few things I know I'll be putting to use today, and I thought I'd share.

First and foremost, nothing gets done without this puppy:

Speaking of puppies, Moxie does not love Bella. Just sayin.'

Next, these go without saying. Yes, Todd bought Clorox because he was at Fred Meyer. Quinn was pissed. That's my boy:

For all your de-linting needs:

Precious though they are, my slumbering babes aren't getting off the hook. They have serious work to do. I usually use Post-Its, but I bought a white board because a) I am a white board fetishist, and b) There's a hell of a lot to be done. Bah. They do exceedingly well with lists, so I'm letting them rest up and show me the money!

Always handy when vacuuming couch cushions, floors, and de-linting:

Halfway point snack. I could eat these until my tongue bleeds. Thank god they're $234752490752035 per package:

LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!

I have already:

-Made my (bed?)

-Made coffee

-Gotten all of the laundry into the dryer, with the heap-in-waiting already tipsy...

-Rounded up supplies.

-Charged iPod and phone, which I am hoping will not ring. :(

-Re-stocked the Kleenex which was apparently raided by stuffy-nosed aliens. I keep Kleenex on pretty much every surface and each box had like one left. Hmmm...

-Sorted and stacked a friend's birthday gift with valentines I will wrap later.

-Noticed 39846 things I need to add to my list. Go coffee go!!!

In Moxie order:

KITCHEN:

-Load/run the dishwasher.

-Bleach sink.

-Wipe down the counters, arranging/putting away extraneous, mind-crushing crap.

-Wipe appliances, including the top of the refrigerator.

-Remove random candles, whose charm wore off three hundred days ago, from said refrigerator top.

-De-clutter coupons, pictures, other cop-out items stuck on refrigerator. I hate that! Perhaps I will have to remove all but two magnets...yes!!!

-Scrub the garbage can upon emptying.

-Get behind garbage, where the dust villages live, along with some errant boxes of soy milk (squatters), and scrub the refrigerator grill while my old bones are down there.

-Put the kids' crap into piles on the counter to be removed.

-Sort through mail and other slowing-me-down type things so I can wipe down the big counter.

-Wash window, inside and out.

-Wipe ceiling, light fixture, trim, etc. Hooray for six-foot-long arms!

BATHROOM:

-Ajax the porcelain until it cries. Yank all towels, replace with fresh ones, shake out bath mats, sweep/Swiffer the floors, scrub sinks, tub/showers, toilets, baseboards, re-stock t.p. and/or hand soap as needed, Windex mirror, tidy up Todd's front bathroom "office" of receipts, business cards, other tidbits. Curse tiny house. Be grateful for said tiny house.

***TRICK*** I used to wash our bath mats on delicate and wait eight days for them to dry, but since I bought the hand held Dirt Devil, Quinn has discovered how amazingly well it works on the mats. Yea!

-Check to see if vinyl liner needs to run through the washer. (Note: I recently learned while cleaning a friend's house that if you wash an 88 cent liner it will shred like fettucini, but if you wash a $1.79 liner, you're good as gold. Wtf?)

LAUNDRY ROOM:

-Once all laundry has completed its course, toss linen sorters into wash and use OxiClean, hang dry.

-Pull naked sorter out and sweep under it.

-Ditto shoe rack, which Reilly will be sorting.

-Run lint roller over recently-washed mats, after shaking them out and sweeping/Swiffering under everything.

-Cry for mercy at the 709 reusable grocery bags which are being used for every conceivable purpose, such as returning one plate to someone, holding the kids' outgrown clothes, awaiting homes, stuffed animals, dirty clothes, clean clothes, valentines, cleaning supplies always on-hand in my car, as lots of people have been needing a hand lately. :) Also magazines no one wants to part with nor deal with, laundered items whose homes the kids aren't certain about, you get it. I hate these bags. I forget to use them at the store, hence our outbreak, gads. If anyone wants to take any off my hands, out of my laundry room, PLEASE let me know.

COMPUTER AREA: (How appropriate that Cry Baby is playing!)

-Scream. Cry. Repeat.

-Okay...

-Wait. Still crying. This has become the mother ship of all of Todd's mini offices of which I speak and openly lament. (The front bathroom counter, the top of the microwave, his closet, omg omg omg.) Recently, in an effort to de-clutter (bless him) and churn up some extra cash flow (BLESS his heart), he has begun selling things on eBay again. We used to do this constantly years ago, but I gave up when I went back to school five days a week and began doing some school work with the kids. I abhor the tedium, but Todd is very methodical and can clean, photograph, and list things in spite of eBay's ever-changing format without going insane, so more power to him. I really appreciate his enterprising nature and his patience, but Jeebus I hate this part of the house. Currently, in addition to his three amplifiers, shrouded in painfully mismatched beach towels, are six Pampers boxes of ancient magazines, which sell for a pretty penny, guitar guts atop the magazines, four boxes of Hot wheels he strategically selected back in '03, and is selling for roughly $25.00 apiece now. Not too shabby, except the sight of the boxes might kill me. Also, before my dad died a few years ago, he bequeathed a bunch of random shit to me (no he would not be offended by this description). He was...how to put it...a white collar hoarder? I don't know. This man, dear god. Had so many things, mostly little and/or old, and/or southwestern (gasp!), and/or gross, etc. When he died i had a huge garage sale and made quite a lot, as his taste, while not appealing to me, save for a few items, was quite elite, and I sort of made a killing. I sold his collection of Swarovski crystal ornaments for almost $600, and yes, I kept a lot of things too. One of which is some ancient gun he got as a kid. My kids really aren't into that type of thing, so I gave Todd the okay to list it. So it's sitting here, cluttering everything up and kind of making me sad about my dad, to whom every single match book was precious. But I mean, was I really supposed to hang 7,000 ceramic clown masks on my wall when I am a huge caulrophobe? Eesh.

Sorry for the worst tangent ever.

-Organize the wasteland on the computer desk, wipe down EVERYTHING, check all blank disks, sort pics on the desktop, tidy up cabinet next to computer, have kids dust the cords/baseboards.

-Wipe bay windowsill.

-Dust/wipe all hanging pictures/trim.

-Vacuum ("Oh Quiiiiiiiin!")

-Get some iTunes shit done if there's time and space later.

-Hang the white board where it can be seen and obeyed by all!

-Gather Netflix to be mailed.

KIDS' BEDROOM:

-Scream, if I have any voice left after cleaning the computer area.

-Make them deal with emptying trash, picking up clothes, which they are usually excellent about, making beds, general tidying. Hooray for being 10 and 11!

MASTER BEDROOM:

-Change sheets, make bed.

-Dust EVERYTHING twice.

-Kiss my Obama calendar.

-Spiff up dual vanity, wipe it down. Possibly sort some christmas stuff?

-Look at closet and see if I feel inspired or faint.

DINING AREA:

-Clear the table, which, as every home schooling family knows, home schooling families don't have dining room tables. But seriously, separate lessons from Todd's accounting station, from the two puzzles, from LEGOS, enough to wipe it all down and make room to make valentines with the kids later.

-Wipe down/organize school/game/hasty-don't-know-where-to-put-this shelf.

-Group pencils and pens.

-Wipe it all down baby!

This is *my* list for today, but we mustn't forget, I have to clean like this, lest I burst into tears, imagining scabies and tape worms making their way through everything.

If you've read this far and aren't blind, I challenge you to do ***ANY*** of the 10 things I listed. Even the 10 easiest. C'mon, you know you can do it!

For those curious as to what I scrawled onto my white board, here ya go. Took five seconds, and I may add more:

MANIC CLEANING SAURDAY? What's a Saturday?

2010-02-07T01:30:00.000-08:00

Update:

I'm not closing the blog, and things are running smoothly technically speaking but, well...

House fires, witch hunts, and surgeries oh my. Sitting with three separate relatives in the hospital on three consecutive nights, culminating in a very scary surgery, taught me that wiping down my counters can wait. I did have amazing support, friends who spruced the house up so I could steam ahead like a locomotive to do what I needed to do to keep my family safe.

I was largely relegated to a mere husk of Moxie, but did manage to:

-Use anti-bacterial gel 97529572039572039570 times.

-Prevent my loved ones from touching anything in the hospital.

-Ask my forever super hero, Reilly, to wash three loads of laundry, since our post-fire threat of nudity was looming large. She sooo came through.

-Buy everyone new micro-fleece blankets because it seemed logical and imperative.

-Wipe down my steering wheel until it nearly evaporated.

-Separate and wash ALL garments that had come within 10 miles of the hospital.

-Took out recycling, mostly by rote, so don't give me any credit.

And finally tonight, in the final stretch of our life lesson in the sanctity of family and health, I:

-Hung what few clothes I have, after speedily buying some new duds beforehand.

-Fold three loads of laundry, as Todd is still incapacitated.

-Swept and mopped the floors.

-Cleared the counters of the pizza boxes which were insurmountable for my loved ones.

-Took out the garbage, which was higher than it has ever been, because I was the only mobile person in the joint.

-Re-situated Quinn's recovery station with fresh blankets, emptying his wastebasket, collected his tea cups, and brought him a Spongebob LEGO set because, um, if you had been through what we have, you'd take your baby to Bikini Bottom.

-De-cluttered, hell of.

-And I even took my girl, the only one who didn't scare the living shit out of me this week, swimming at midnight, because this kid kicked some crisis ass.

I will be resuming Moxieclean just as soon as there is room in my brain. Meanwhile, I have enjoyed your emails and texts, and Nina, I hope your stove and oven are sparkling, and not on fire.

Thank you for your patience and well wishes. I will be storming the house like the beaches of Normandy, as soon as this heart attack subsides.

Health to you, and whatever cleaning you can manage. <3

-Moxie

2010-01-30T01:25:00.000-08:00

But keep your cells clean. I'll be right back.

It Burns

2010-01-26T23:11:00.000-08:00

Well, I've officially joined the ranks of people who must decide, immediate-like, what if anything to grab when the kitchen is thisclose to exploding, presumably taking most of the house with it. Shoes? Nope. Purse? Nuh-uh. It was the shirts on our backs and the phone I happened to be carrying. I wanted to be hella heroic and risk life and limb to grab a photo album of Keagan for Susannah, who was at work, oblivious to our surprise enchilada plan, as well as the complete and total destruction of her kitchen. But then I thought it might hurt to explode so I decided firmly that it was the thought that counted.

In any event, due to the remarkably gracious nature of our victim (though technically the 14 firemen determined the fire wasn't our fault), I can say without offending her that this kitchen needed to be blown up. I knew the previous residents, and fuck me if it wasn't virtually Moxie proof. I can't even go into detail without evoking a ferocious OCD reaction, but since it happened, I'm glad she's getting some new, clean digs, from the ground up, and a new stove! Because ones that have blown up tend to be fairly unreliable afterward.

The hard part was that Debe and I had to be here today to tell adjusters what happened 15 times, but we weren't allowed to clean. Soooooo, my mind and all of Monmouth are covered in smoke and extinguisher shit, which is highly noxious yet we all fell asleep here anyway. Always living dangerously.

So your first assignment is to look into whether or not there is anything in your house you could set on fire and get replaced by something 100 times better. If not, be thankful there isn't a 7" thick film on top of everything, gnashing its teeth, smirking that you are defenseless against it. OMG. If you are pro-flooding therapy, you would love this. This is my version of a jar of spiders being poured on me. Also, a jar of spiders being poured on me is like a jar of spiders being poured on me. A lot of things are.

So in lieu of your own fire:

-Wash all your clothes, fold, hang, whisper sweet nothings to them. Whatever it takes.

-Wipe down all fixtures--lights, outlets, knobs, etc.

-Clean your living room. Clutter, dishes (gasp!), window, fold blankets, sort shoes, what-have-you.

-Bleach your sinks and fill your tub with bleach and hot water. That's a whole lotta shine happening without much effort on your part--WIN!

-Clear, sweep, and vacuum all floors.

There. Five highly doable, highly satisfying tasks YOU REALLY CAN DO TODAY!!!

Joy and outdoormama, I triple-dog-dare you!!! So there!

Monday Times Five

2010-01-24T22:15:00.000-08:00

I've worked up a little cleaning routine based on my obsession with fives. Today's goal is simple: Five tasks, each involving five things.

Some suggestions:

-Fold five loads of laundry.

-Vacuum five sections of carpet.

-Dust the five most prominent surfaces.

-Rid your purse of five unused things.

-Put five things on your calendar.

-Consolidate five Post-Its onto one list.

-Windex five mirrors/windows.

-Sweep five floors.

-Wash five mats.

-Do dishes in five minute increments until they're done!

-Make five ugh-type phone calls. (If you have five of those, I am sad for you.)

-Remove five errant pieces of crap lying around.

-De-clutter for five minutes.

-Drink five cups of coffee.

-Find someone to high-five.

Do any five of these, and you're off to an excellent start.

Survey Says: SATURDAY!

2010-01-22T19:45:00.000-08:00

No, I know it's a retardation, but I'm totally fascinated by your responses to the really cheap-ass, ghetto survey I pecked out. I'm enthralled to no end that one mama's nightmare (dishes) is another mama's delight (me, I'm sick, I know). Today Moxie is featuring my twin (in lieu of flame, I will say aerosol spray), Gail, for whom cleaning is also second nature and less difficult, and for whom the littlest things can feel like the roof caved in. Things others wouldn't notice. It's our superpower and our disability, all wrapped up into one. I am holding like a 45% grudge against her for the whole particle revelation, but I otherwise adore her to no end, and have to laugh that she represents herself as such a tea-drunk slouch, yet her house is still pristine.

On a typical day, the first chore I think about is_straightening any towels that might be askew. actually, the first thing i think about is getting a cup of tea. I don't have any set chores for each day i just do a bit each day. I usually bypass this by __drinking as much tea as possible and sitting on the computer_. I finally get to it when ___the kids are set with lessons and i am finished on the computer. basically, when i've run out of excuses. It takes me _____1-3 hrs before I get into cleaning mode. Normally I go at it with ___60___% motivation. My top five priorities, regardless of whether or not I get to them, are, in no particular order:
1._________particles_____________
2.___________laundry___________
3.________sweeping______________
4.________dusting______________
5.________kitchen______________

The one task I'd sooner eat slugs than tackle is________the bathroom: floor, tub, shower, all of it__________________. The one task I dream of someone coming to do is________all of it. having a maid would be awesome___________.

The thing(s) I try never to let slide are________dishes______________. I do the following everyday___________dishes___________.

The tasks which I find to be the easiest are____________sweeping__________, ____decluttering_____________, _________folding laundry, making beds_____________, etc.

Some things that might motivate me are___more tea, cheyenne giving me time limits____________________.

On any given day, a reasonable, satisfying, non-insurmountable routine would look something like___________________1/4 of what cheyenne does_______________.

Hey, flattery will get you everywhere.

Feelin' it Friday

2010-01-22T00:38:00.000-08:00

Let's pretend you're all gearing up for some big kick-ass Saturday like me, in your underwear, drinking an iced Americano out of a mason jar with your iPod blasting, and a to-do list that is scarier than the withdrawal prospects for our various wars.

If that were the case I'd have you all scouting out cob webs, dusting fan blades, wiping door frames, things of a high nature, so as to go low this weekend. This is not to say you can't still do these things, but I know my hopes for you are grandiose at least and fucking preposterous at worst.

Criminally insane in some cases.

Today I'm feeling crevice-ish. I'm watching Keagan, whom I plan to distract with Nickelodeon (shhhhhh, don't tell Susannah) long enough to scrub out the tub, an old nemesis of mine from way back. Once that's done, I will hand him a hanger and a straw and we will get into some corners and low places. (Please make that Garth Brooks song stop in my head.)

After this I have 23703289585 organizational projects to conquer, in my purse, my car, my home, my desk, my iTunes, my brain, ad nauseum. All of this to prepare for the Big Clean tomorrow.

I recently bought a so-called "hand-held" Dirt Devil because of the fucking puppy, er, dear sweet thing we welcomed into our home. It's really big though and I'm hoping it swallows her up. Too much hair. Too much pee. Make it look like an accident. No, I got it for those areas where something has recently spilled and it doesn't warrant unleashing the Kirby. But no one has opened it yet, curious...

So go high if you can, de-clutter, make every movement count. Your best is good enough, it's only mine that is not.

Confessional

2010-01-20T14:01:00.000-08:00

I got a kick out of a lot of the emails I got, but mostly I got requests for me to post my own answers. So behold, the daily grind of an OCD mind:

On a typical day, the first chore I think about is_____making the bed___. I usually bypass this by __I don't bypass it, I do as soon as my feet touch the floor.__. I finally get to it immediately _. It takes me ___two blinks___ before I get into cleaning mode (which also involves organizing/arranging mode. The two are very different.). Normally I go at it with ___80___% motivation.

My top five priorities, regardless of whether or not I get to them, are, in no particular order:
1.___the kitchen, including dishes, sinks bleached, appliances wiped down, floor swept/Swiffed, garbage emptied, top of refrigerator bare and wiped, counter de-cluttered.

2.___laundry.
3.____all floors, swept and mopped, with clean dry mats.
4.___bathrooms wiped down, especially toilets, everything stocked, fresh towels, plenty of SOAP.
5.____the final task is sort of a mixture. a walk-through de-cluttering, dusting, tossing things out, into place, whatever. This is just the beginning.

The one task I'd sooner eat slugs than tackle is __shampooing the carpet, though I'm a Nazi about it getting done__. The one task I dream of someone coming to do is___dusting every single object or secretly getting rid of things I'd never notice were gone.__.

The thing(s) I try never to let slide are_____the wiping down stuff, and dishes__. I do the following everyday:____all of it, except the vacuuming is more like every three days and aside from daily maintenance, the bathrooms get scoured every three weeks, unless I become possessed (every nine seconds or so) and insist it happen more often__.

The tasks which I find to be the easiest are:___everything really, though there are things I enjoy less than others. Crawling under the computer desk to dust cords is like, not my favourite. Laundry is EASY, wiping down the kitchen I can do with my eyes closed. Really, I don't mind any of it, it's stopping that's hard for me.

Some things that might motivate me are____coffee, guests, and not having enough time. When someone is waiting for me, I suddenly have to scrub the grout.

On any given day, a reasonable, satisfying, non-insurmountable routine would look something like: -making the bed, starting the coffee, feeling perplexed that I cleaned everything before I went to bed and awake feeling like I must clean it all again, get laundry going, sweep all floors, take out garbages, wipe down everything we own, have a bleach party, do windows, mirrors, get chore lists and lessons ready. Keep laundry rotated and folded, sink empty, counters wiped, and when time permits, pull things out do see what sort of dust and shit is smirking behind there. Ack.

Repeat. Repeat.

Tah-Dah Tuesday, Moxling Showcased!

2010-01-19T01:08:00.000-08:00

I asked you guys to fill in the survey describing your love-hate/love-love/hate-hate relationship with cleaning, and Dyan's answer made me laugh out loud, as she always does. So today I'm showcasing her survey because I love her so much and she pecked out her answer buried under 7,091 at-risk cats and with eyelids heavier than an anvil.

Thanks Dyan, for always being you (and sometimes being me):

From: Dyan Wilder-McClure
To: lovetocleanup
Date: 9:33 pm
Subj: you asked for it..can vary day to day though
On a typical day, the first chore I think about is_____vacuuming__________________. I usually bypass this by __my stupid busy life_____________________. I finally get to it when __________the animal hair is piled more than 3" deep_________. It takes me ________48____________ mins/hrs before I get into cleaning mode (and by then something else has come up). Normally I go at it with ___.05___% motivation. My top five priorities, regardless of whether or not I get to them, are, in no particular order:
1.___vacuuming (see above)_________________
2.___laundry___________________
3.____dishes__(jon's fave though)________________
4.___the bathroom all around_________________
5.____wiping down stuff to disinfect (for goodness sake I have cats on countertops, maybe this goes to priority #1)_________

The one task I'd sooner eat slugs than tackle is_________cleaning litter boxes--or cleaning out my scary fridge_________________. The one task I dream of someone coming to do is___mopping, cleaning my entire house over and over!_________________.

The thing(s) I try never to let slide are_____the wiping down stuff_________________. I do the following everyday_______duh, see previous answer and also vacuuming_______________.

The tasks which I find to be the easiest are___delegating to jon___________________, ___picking up stuff______________, ____the wiping down thing__________________, etc.

Some things that might motivate me are____guest (horrors and thankfully rare) or a house showing.____________________.

On any given day, a reasonable, satisfying, non-insurmountable routine would look something like:_if i had the time, daily i would
vacuum every room, clean bathroom thoroughly, mop floors if needed, wipe every surface, and even make the bed!__________________________________.

If you get your ass back here, I will mop your floors everyday.

Thanks for sharing.

Monday Moxie Must

2010-01-18T00:04:00.000-08:00

Two disclaimers about this photo: First, my entire body, but specifically the bulge in the pocket of my cardigan. It was Reilly's hoodie. Second, I apologize for the Clorox wipes positioned most prominently and impossible to hide. Todd's mom brought those over and I ripped through them as quickly as possible because Quinn, ever the dutiful lover of polished surfaces, strongly prefers Kirkland wipes, calling Clorox "Flimsy and useless and too wet." So there's that.

Today I thought I'd get your brains churning out some honesty where domesticity is concerned with the following uber-fun quiz/maze/Mad Lib exercise:

Please post your answers, or permit me to post the ones that are emailed/texted to me!

On a typical day, the first chore I think about is_______________________. I usually bypass this by _______________________. I finally get to it when ___________________. It takes me ____________________ mins/hrs before I get into cleaning mode. Normally I go at it with ______% motivation. My top five priorities, regardless of whether or not I get to them, are, in no particular order:
1.______________________
2.______________________
3.______________________
4.______________________
5.______________________

The one task I'd sooner eat slugs than tackle is__________________________. The one task I dream of someone coming to do is____________________.

The thing(s) I try never to let slide are______________________. I do the following everyday______________________.

The tasks which I find to be the easiest are______________________, _________________, ______________________, etc.

Some things that might motivate me are________________________.

On any given day, a reasonable, satisfying, non-insurmountable routine would look something like___________________________________.

Feel free to copy/paste these and send them to my email with your name and I will post them tomorrow.

Do it, you know you want to.

lovetocleanup@gmail.com

TGIM Moxlings.

Dirty Little Devils

2010-01-16T00:18:00.000-08:00

Simple math equation:

Read this link and blame it all on Gail:
http://www.examiner.com/x-18417-Health-News-Examiner~y2009m7d31-Failing-home-hygeineresults-from-microscopic-examinations

OCD mind + 2'x2' house + invasion of 4lb. peeing dog = purchase of a 20lb. Dirt Devil Deluxe specializing in animal hair.

Obviously you all have to buy one of these, and to keep things fair, Mesina has to send me a Dyson. Now that we're all on the same page with our toothbrushes nestled safely in a drawer, or in my case a vault, let's fire up our (new!) espresso makers, drink our coffee's in jars, crank up whatever music gets your juices flowing and get manic, bitches!

Goals for today:

-Dishwasher. Repeat...

-Washing machine. Repeat. Curse. Repeat...

-Do not think about Hugh Hefner's penis.

-Tackle those toilets before the particles invade.

(Gail, Debe can't remember where she got her mini OxiClean spray because she's selfish like that.)

-Gather errant dishes from around the house and "say shame on myself" as you carry them to the sink.

-Strip and re-make beds.

-In light of the particle revelation, set all underwear on fire. If it burns it wasn't a witch.

-Wipe, wipe, wipe!(interpret however you wish.)

-Disinfect doorknobs.

-Vacuum all carpet.

-Wipe again. I'm just sayin'.

-De-clutter 10 things.

-Refill your coffee. You're done and you deserve it.(a splash of bleach wouldn't hurt.)

Past the Particles

2010-01-14T23:36:00.000-08:00

Head count: How many of you have passed out from holding your breath in the bathroom following the earth-shattering expose` re: insidious fecal particles drifting out of even the cleanest commodes?

How many have altered the means by which you wear your underwear, now that you know that the particles are nestled happily within them?

How many will be bold enough to exclaim that you now carry kiddie wipes and use them every hour, and spray your skivvies with the purse-sized aerosol can of OxiClean? (Okay that may be just me.)

How many have succumbed to bleach after years of swearing it off?

Finally, who of you will admit to taking the "fecal schmecal" attitude and have done nada? I mean, I know people who will find the presence of this invasion liberating, and justification to cut their cleaning routine from the current 10% down to 5% or so, so you're not alone if that's you.

Some things to consider:

-Please bleach all porcelain/plastic in your bathroom.

-Replace toothbrush holders (even cute ones from Target/Pier 1/IKEA) with travel cases and KEEP THEM THERE, preferably in a drawer.

-Have a remedial lesson in thorough wiping.

-Always leave the lid down, and spray something hell of poisonous, like Raid, on the toilet when you need to use it.

-Pee in the yard.

-Eat foods that make you constipated (ie-bananas).

-Remember even in view of this catastrophe, it is never okay to say the word poop outside your house. And while I'm at it, dropping the second 'p' does not glamorize this horrid word. Saying "Bella pooped outside," is a) Honest, and doesn't try to represent Bella as having done something amazing and beautiful, and b) a lie, because that fucking beast prefers to poop inside. Bitch.

Moving on...

Particles aside, we're facing a weekend, so here are some obscure ideas to tickle your fancy into action:

-Clean your range hood. It's dusty and has been calling you.

-Clean your coffee/espresso maker, putting all the pieces in the dishwasher if possible.

-Windex all windows.

-Attack your main bookshelf. You know your sunglasses, iPod, keys, christmas cards, and like a string, are on there, hiding like E.T. among the stuffed animals. Rearrange everything like Jennifer recently did. It brightens up the room and makes me happy.

-Bleach your wastebaskets.

-Sweep your porch/front step.

-Wipe the top of your refrigerator, and get all the shit off of it.

-Wipe all cords under tvs, games, and computers FTW!

-Answer this: Shit I can't remember. I had a question for you guys but I can't remember it. I'll be back with that.

Hop to it my lovelies, Saturday looms large!

MANIC MOXIE MUST READ!!!

2010-01-11T22:37:00.000-08:00

I shudder even touching these keys, as I plan to live in a Visqueen hut sealed by 9,000 rolls of duct tape, and then moving everyday, but as your humble leader and germaphobe of the highest order, it is incumbent upon me to pass along some information that recently ruined my life, by way of Gail, my most prized Moxling, whose greatest domestic fail was a hand towel that was askew in 2006. Okay I'm wasting valuable time, ready?

According to an article in the current issue of Health Magazine, the presence of fecal particles emanating from each and every toilet--yes that means yours and mine (faints!)--is constant and unavoidable. And that these particles also love to dwell in every single pair of underwear that has ever been worn. (Regains consciousness then faints again.)

I checked. It's true. I'm mortified. It's as if I've failed all of you, my children, myself. Obviously I'm naked and marinating in bleach.

Personally, while I support free-range produce and not eating that which is crawling with e.Coli, I am also a believer in the human immune system to enable me to eat at a restaurant and not die. (Unless it's Taco Bell, then death is a certainty.) Anyway, I use common sense when eating but military vigilance when it comes to hygiene. And I'm walking (well, trembling at the moment) proof that my theory has merit, as I used to spend exorbitant periods of time in a household where one is more likely to find the Hope Diamond than hand soap, where fecal matter was treated as casually as a pile of laundry, which in this particular case translates into a sea comparable to the Atlantic Ocean of "clean," dirty, really dirty, wet, and dry laundry, sometimes with wood chips atop, and always a dog. This epoch belies verbal description, but the point is I survived. I probably used 497,000 gallons of hand sanitizer when no one was looking, plus mini spray bottles of disinfectant for those moments wherein what needs to be done can only be done in the bathroom. God only knows the tornado of fecal particles that surrounded me in those years. I will report back on the effects of drinking bleach.

Meanwhile, here are some suggestions for fighting this insidious, revolting reality:

For the OCD-minded:

Slightly less drastic:

For reals:

Good luck troops. (Sealing my bubble.)

Midday Manic Make-Up: GET WITH IT!

2010-01-09T11:05:00.000-08:00

Peeps got to slackin' during the holidays, and I had to show some mercy considering my trusty laptop has some sort of commitment issue and I dropped the ball a few times myself. Not in cleaning, mind you, just in posting.

So I got lots of requests from newbies and old-bies (?) alike asking for a little review of why I'm crazy and how that translates into a clean house. I wrote for something like an eon, hoping it would ignite some cleaning fire...or real fire, since that is always a cleaning option.

I left it up this week like a crab net, hoping to ensnare the interest and fervor of as many of you as possible. Alas, it is Saturday, I am on my actual computer, and I am going to KICK.FILTH.ASS. And so are you. If you're reading this you can't click out in good conscience knowing the rest of us are on our hands and knees. I for one am on a particularly semi-effective cocktail of Dilaudid, Percocet, and Valium, that the Good Lord might see fit to eliminate the squalor (read: one plate and one load of laundry) in which my children live.

Also, Reilly's puppy, Bella, um, is not my favourite creature these days. Bitch gets out of her crate, we cannot figure out how, and then, you know, tidies up the place naturally. So when my formidable list is complete (I have until 9:30pm), we are having a separate shampoo extravaganza. Joy. I especially love that her accoutrements have totaled like $60.00 worth of stuffedies, blankets, special bones, necklaces, pedicures, I don't even know.

They even use my ottoman to exalt her spoiled highness, aaahhhh:

But where's Bella? She sleeps with Todd, ooh, he so fierce, and then she wakes up Reilly, who is so busted for having the phone in bed. (Photo pending new phone cooperation...)

Here's a little something I whipped up for you guys today, to get your blood pumping/exploding:

Dessert, OCD-style:

Putting your coffee directly into an IV is the most prudent course of action. Wrap the cord around your neck and you can just push it around while you bust it out!

Happy cleaning!

Back to Basics, Per Requests

2010-01-02T11:51:00.001-08:00

IN GENESIS:

Today, in lieu of Manic Cleaning Saturday, and in spite of hellacious food poisoning that has seized my back, I am posting a somewhat remedial description of the core of housekeeping success, my tips, the products I use (by request), and a new and improved sis-boom-bah for 2010, that you might feel inspired. Or at least not crying. Or dousing your place with kerosene. Pardon the tardiness of this post, though, as I am almost completely immobilized by my spine.

Given that all of our homes, habits, energy levels (or lack thereof), routines, needs, standards, stress loads, and every other circumstance on earth differ, all I can really do, for those of you I don't know, whose homes I can't come and attack myself, is try to encourage you to make the most of the time and energy you do have, when to make the extra push, how to prioritize, and most importantly, how to never wake up calling me saying, "Chey my house is such a shit hole I can't even move!" I want your house never to feel insurmountable again.

KEEPING IT HONEST:

That said, I will remind you all that I have OCD, so my standard is beyond perfection, and I will scrub things until the finish wears off, or my skin, whichever comes last, generally. If I'm bleeding from the head, profusely, and have just gotten in the car to have it sutured, I will go back to check my flat iron and then put the rogue spoon in the dishwasher, which begets wiping down the kitchen, then putting the bits and pieces of crap which represent my children's happiness into their totes, whereupon I start bleeding onto the counter, which prompts me to get the bleach...you get it. I could die of blood loss. So it's a disorder. One that serves me well, as I have taught my children excellent hygiene habits while not being freaks like their mom, and we have a good routine that prevents the rampant shit hole syndrome. Make no mistake, I always feel like my house is a shit hole, it just never is. It's small, two bedroom, partially cute, partially permanently mid-remodel, and always cluttered, as we are a family of four. I try to compensate for our lack of space by cleaning things endlessly. I do not recommend this.

DAY-TO-DAY:

In general, I have a low-key routine that keeps the shit hole at bay, but this does involve almost constant movement throughout the day. I am not one to sit still. I've known people who can sit atop 15 feet of clean/dirty/wet laundry with bark chips and dogs and do needlepoint. I can't read a book unless my every spoon has been evicted from the sink, which must be bleached, and every speck of dust chased out. We're all different, so glean and apply from this what you can.

Generally, my daily sequence involves making my bed as I get out of it, grabbing my water, phone, tissues, books, etc., off the nightstand, and placing them on the counter en route to the restroom. I keep my eyes open for dust, spots on the floor, threads and other invaders on my bath mats, empty-ish hand soap dispensers, things of this nature, and I address each and every thing I find. Right then. That is really my key. Do it now. I repeat:

-DO IT NOW!

Once I've left the bathroom ship-shape, I start laundry, rotate if necessary, wipe down the washer and dryer, straighten the mats, check the wastebasket, and take my frou-frou air-dry-only Amazonian clothes off their rack and hang them all--on white hangers only, a Moxie mandate--in my closet.

Back in the kitchen I set my kids' lessons out, and write up their chore lists, based upon what needs to be done. Then I weigh the balance of coffee/heart attack vs. no coffee/self-pity. Next up, some hell of boring breakfast that adheres to my brand new dietary restrictions which are longer than The Bible. I typically eat at the computer, though I am not big on prolonged screen time. I check the news, email, facebook, blogs, maybe answer some mail, then I blast iTunes to remind my children that being nocturnal is unlikely to suit them in later life. Once I bring my plate to the sink, I inexplicably scrub down the entire kitchen, even though I will have just done so the night before, so that I have a snowball's chance of sleep.

With bed made, laundry going, and CONSTANTLY rotating, kitchen clean, breakfast served, kids' business laid out, I conjure up 75 reasons not to take a shower. I hate showers you see. Ironic I know, but sadly true. So I invent things to clean/dust/rearrange/re-stack/make anything better looking than it was before.

We are very busy, with activities several days a week, friends with whom to visit, errands to run, things to buy so as to minimize the clutter in my home (I never said I was a genius), Starbucks to patronize, for without Reilly and me they would surely go tits up.

In the evening, I am all over clutter, home work, dinner dishes, the remains of the laundry, and my general sweep through.

Later, when my kids should probably be in bed but aren't because I like being with them, I fold all the laundry, and frequently wake up on top of it, to see them on the floor, at which point I am temporarily consumed with guilt for their tender bodies being on the floor and not on their shi-shi pillow-top mattresses, until I realize I slept on 900 floors as a kid and fall back asleep.

Next day, same tune.

THE SHIT HOLE:

Now, when I have surgery (about once a year), or have been gone, or whatever, and it's starting to feel like the shit hole demon is upon me, my formula looks something like this:

-Music music music!

-Get the washing machine running, first load is always every mat in the house. That commits you to washing them and opens the floors for sweeping/mopping later.

-Get the dishwasher going too. If you have more than one load, migrate all your unwashed dishes (trick reference, as there shouldn't be any) towards the sink, soaking and crusty things in the left side and scouring counter tops and stove tops.

-Sprinkle Ajax in all sinks/tubs/toilets that are not in immediate use. Again, it's a commitment. Tip: Leave one toilet un-cleansered until you're ready to clean it. Invariably, everyone in your family will have to use the bathroom constantly before you clean the toilets, and even more so afterward. Because they are selfish.

-I start getting serious in the kitchen, scrubbing, wiping, dusting, sweeping, Swiffering, straightening magnets/pictures/coupons on the refrigerator, dusting the top (very important). I also take a toothpick, or, since Dyan sent my domestic salvation, the Sonic Scrubber, to the cracks between the baseboard and the linoleum. I also remove the grill from the refrigerator, and soak or run it. Then I pull the drawer out from the stove and rearrange everything until I'm blind, and clean underneath the stove (major psychic rewards here folks). When the voices tell me to, I bleach the sinks, using a rubber stopper I've featured here before. I recently purchased a second one so I can bleach two sinks simultaneously. Maybe I am a genius.

-A glistening kitchen is highly motivating. Mostly it motivates me not to kill myself and never to cook, but it also gives me a boost for the rest of the house.

-Coffee, music, and food are vital here.

-Rotate laundry/dishes, as necessary. Have children put dishes away when possible.

-Next I check everyone's beds, which leads to changing sheets, dusting the few knick-knacks I allow, wiping down window tracks, straightening posters, throwing away debris, checking more wastebaskets...

-The layout of our house leads me thus to the dual vanity and the back bathroom, which has been remodeled eight times, the last of which we were swindled, left without a door, a dangling shower head, shitty paint job, but at a glance it looks really nice. Unless you're the one in there and someone comes sauntering in to ask if there are any Honey Bunches of Oats while you're exposed with no door. I'm just saying. I incorporate re-stocking things like t.p., paper towels, napkins, printer paper, and the like, as I clean. Once you're moving, you may as well be moving, you know? You can achieve twice as much as you think you can in the same amount of time. I promise.

-So beds, kitchen, laundry, bathrooms, sinks, check. Time for floors. Leave no floor unswept, and then implement whatever form of mopping/wiping/Swiffering you prefer. But be thorough, lest corners and crevices haunt you later. None of us is too good for hands and knees, and if I can do it, so can you. I often bleach my linoleum once I'm down there because damn. May as well have a picnic once you're down there. So floors.

-Rotate dishes/laundry.

-Venture out into living rooms, dining rooms, with an eye out for trash, dirty dishes, me scowling if you have either of those, surface clutter, blankets you can fold, etc. Clean, polished surfaces are extremely pleasing.

-Next up: Vacuum all carpeting.

-Final sweep through the house. Set your timer for 20 minutes. Start at one end and work your way to the other, grabbing any garments, odd paperwork, magazines, whatever you may have missed, and put it all away. NOW. Remember now?

-You might want to wipe down end tables, computer desks, lamps, floorboards, oh oh oh! And the cords under your computers and tvs. Major gratification.

-That's about it. Sit and fold your laundry while watching "____________________" and noshing your Bon-Bon of choice. You deserve it.

MY PRINCIPLES, IN SUMMATION:

-Do it now.

-Always be looking for things that are out of order and then fix them.

-Make the most of every action. Like, if you're walking through the house, gather things strewn about in haste in thoughtlessness by the savages with whom you share your dwelling.

-Stop thinking about your entire house. That is a mental sinking ship. One room at a time, or one task at a time (like rounding up laundry, dishes, etc.).

-Do not let things fester. Especially dishes. You will be sooo sorry. It is easier to toss pots and pans into sudsy water as you serve dinner than it is to get up on Saturday and wield your sword to slay the encrusted sauces and cheeses that will most assuredly make you want to move/die/kill/speak in tongues.

-Implement better habits in husbands (or wives, Dobby) and kids. Put laundry baskets in their rooms, threaten starvation, Google lice and make everyone look at it, whatever, but it all starts with habits.

-Post here to get copious accolades for jobs (big or small) well done.

-Your best is good enough.

-You will be pleased with much less effort than what I require, lol.

-Lastly, I will come clean it for you. I've done it for everyone I know.

MY ARSENAL:

-I'm no environmental saviour when it comes to domestic warfare. I am hardcore. I do kind things in other capacities, but when it comes to my house, I have to kick ass, not spank it. You know?

I use:

-Clorox bleach.

-Lemon-scented Lysol spray for general purposes.

-Kirkland wipes and only Kirkland.

-My new Sonic Scrubber, thank you thank you thank you Dyan!

-Ajax.

-Brilo pads for the drip pans on the stove I never use.

-Windex for mirrors and windows. I mostly use paper towels but I also have a squeegie for some of the exterior windows.

-Febreze following spills which I thoroughly scour with soapy water.

-Swiffer Wet Jets rock my socks!

-Bath & Body hand soap and anti-bacterial gel, scattered like easter eggs all over our lives.

-A fairly worthless feather duster for framed photographs and such that will tip over and piss you off if you actually wipe them.

Not that you'll need or want it, but I took a picture of my supplies in a post a few months ago. Not for my sake, but because it brings me happiness to see them and think of all of you rushing out to buy my colourful, chemically collection.

So there's that. A day late and a dollar short, but cut me some slack, as my back is completely immobilized, on a Saturday no less, and I'm straining to write this rant of questionable usefulness with a laptop pretty much on my head.

I hope this is what you four were looking for. If not, call me. I'm throwing this effing computer across the room. And then doing the Army slither to go get it because I'll be damned if some laptop is all shattered across a clean floor.

It's 2010!

2010-01-01T01:39:00.000-08:00

Throwing Caution, Cleaning, and Calendars Out on Thursday

2009-12-31T01:56:00.000-08:00

Whatever you have done is fine. Take this day to reflect upon the highlights of 2009, or in many cases, the excrement of each day. But don't clean, unless you have to. Perhaps we'll set some group goals for 2010, and review some helpful tips to invigorate us. But take today off.

(OCD translation: Scrub your asses of because ringing in the new year with a string on the carpet certainly spells doom!)

Happy New Year's Eve Moxlings.

-Cheyenne