Today, a different kind of list.
I’m nobody’s definition of a domestic goddess. I never took a class in housekeeping at college. I don’t know how to make a cup of coffee, and I don’t know how to iron. It’s true. I’m not proud. I have strategic dryer removal skills, coupled with a back-up plan of shower steam, to try and keep us all from being wrinkled messes. I would say I’m only mediocre at vacuuming, and I’m at a loss when it comes to mopping. I improvise.
You can imagine, then, how challenged I am by maintaining a house that includes four children — three of them boys — a dog, and a cat. It’s not pretty, people. I am no neatnik, but I have standards. Those standards have lowered exponentially in the past ten years.
While I struggle to manage my daily duties around the house — recognizing that yes, my husband helps too, but is in an office for ten hours a day at a minimum and apparently has poor eyesight when it comes to spotting the detritus of children — there are certain reoccurring menaces that drive me crazy. I would say they drive me to drink, but that wouldn’t be completely honest. They more often drive me to a tub of Nutella and a spoon. Let’s just say that Nutella and Magic Hat never need fear of going out of business as long as I am in charge of running a household and my children refuse to bow to threats and cajoling.
Six common household items that are surely going to leave me in the fetal position, if not my grave:
Toothpaste. To keep a better eye on them and to lend an assist when necessary, we have our kids brush their teeth in our bathroom. I have tried every kind of children’s toothpaste delivery system and every kind of toothpaste, and none of them prevent the children from smearing toothpaste all over my bathroom sink every. single. day. I gave up and keep a tub of Clorox wipes next to the sink for my own use, since I don’t like to accidentally brush up against my sink and come away with watermelon-scented green goo on my midsection. But it never ceases to amaze me how much toothpaste my children can leave outside their mouths.
Drink box straw wrappers. Surely the road to Hell is paved in juice box straw wrappers. They have that little bit of glue left on them and friction working for them, so they stick to the floor, the sofa, my foot, my pants… and they never, ever make it to the trash can under the power of my little people. Never. I had to start hiding the drink boxes I buy for school lunches high out of sight so the children never drink them at home.
Band-Aid wrappers. We all know that small children revel in the ritual act of getting a Band-Aid for their boo-boos, both real and hypothetical. Well, we have a lot of boo-boos around here. I am pretty certain that I am the only person, big or little, that throws my Band-Aid trash away. I am also certain I am the one who requires the least amount of Band-Aids. To add insult to injury, the Band-Aids are stored in my bathroom cabinet, so I am always the one who finds them in my space. And again, they have that weird friction thing going on, so they stick to my hands and the countertops in a frustrating way.
Dirty white athletic socks. Three school-age boys. One husband. Countless white athletic socks in the house, all of them discarded after use in various and sundry corners of the house, where they are then picked up by the dog and flung to places near and wide. At night, I have nightmares that involves mountains of dirty white athletic socks, none of which fit the children correctly or are ever in pairs.
Shoelaces. My older boys are now convinced that velcro is for babies. However, my older boys are also completely shoelace-challenged and walk around half the time with laces dragging behind them or breaking from extreme knotting. If I have to tell my firstborn to tie his shoes one more time, I am going to lose what is left of my mind. I have heard the shaming of parents for not teaching their kids to tie their shoes, but let me tell you something: if my kids wore velcro for the rest of their lives, I’d be okay with it. Just fine. They could still be productive members of society. I spend my life in ballet flats and flip-flops with the occasional Ugg boot day, so why does it matter so much? Shoelaces are way overrated.
Toilets. You know what? I am going to do you a favor and not elaborate. Just know it’s true.
Oh my god, the plastic straw wrappers. Discarded willy nilly all over the house. And so freaking difficult to spot until they end up on my foot.
Socks drive me mad. I hate socks. And their missing halves.
hahaha! I don’t have four kids, but i can tell you that what drives me nuts out of your list, is the damn socks all over the place… rolled up bunched up socks that someone (hint hint, not my LO) leaves on the floor. and then he yells at me when the socks go missing when I do laundry.. PFFFT
Yes to the everything. My kids are getting older and are better at cleaning up after themselves, but it has been a long road and I still have to stay on them. What I don’t understand is why the dirty clothes end up on the floor. I mean the laundry basket is right there. I’ve started charging my teenagers for every item of clothing they leave lying around. Hey, money talks.
I hear you on the shoelaces. My boy and girl never tie. Just think of the germs that collect on them, like little mini mops that travel across the grassy plains of dog parks and through the tiled floors of elementary school bathroom. It is these thoughts that act like duct tape on my mouth when I want to nag again and again. I think untied shoelaces are slovenly, and they taint my image of a ‘good’ mother in the hairy eyeballs of all the other ‘good’ mothers who pass me in the grocery store and look down at the unkempt feet of my children. But I know better, I know those children’s hand are clean because THAT I can make them do. Besides, what other mothers think of me is none of my business. Love your writing Allison Tate!
OMG. The toothpaste and the socks. YES. It’s mostly the spat-out-toothpaste that accumulates on the sides of the sink – horrible. The Clorox wipes are a good idea. I tell myself it’s because they aren’t tall enough to spit actually INTO the sink, but … gross. And the socks. My children seem to have an incredibly strong desire to be barefoot, and they take off their socks instantly, wherever they are, and leave them there. It’s foul. Right now, in our house, the third is GLITTER. For some idiotic reason I okayed glitter in the Valentine-making this year and … wow. That stuff is hard to clean up. My kitchen looks like the Good Witch Glinda threw up in there. xox
I love this. If I weren’t on my iPhone I’d go on and on! Xox
It’s like you are IN MY MIND! The toothpaste, the straw wrappers (I resorted to hiding them high on the pantry shelf and only for school lunches), the band aid wrappers…ugh! I have 4 kids as well, but 3 girls and a boy. I have to add, having 3 girls, TINY LITTLE TOYS (Littlest Pet Shop, mini princesses etc.) as something that can drive me to drink…they are EVERYWHERE!!! I swear the people that make them must HATE mothers!
I just found you and I LOVE your writing!!!
I only have a toothless infant so the sad truth is that I know my husband is the one making a mess with toothpaste in our bathroom. How a grown man can get toothpaste on so many surfaces will never cease to amaze me! I don’t even want to think about what his mother’s bathroom looked like while he and his 5 siblings were growing up!
Mine somehow get toothpaste on the shower curtain. How?
Mine gets pee on the shower curtain!
After I got back from a recent trip, I opened the window, said a little prayer, dumped a bunch of straight bleach all over the kids’ bathroom like I was covering up a crime scene, closed the door and got the hell out of there.
Ha! Toothpaste . . . . UGH!!!
1. Toilet
2. Toilet
3. Toilet
4. Toilet
5. Toilet
6. I gotta go with microscopic Lego pieces
I. Heart. Nutella.
And you!
I’m an ace at the dryer removal with shower steam as back up routine as well! So funny to see it written out in use by someone else.