Barnaclebutt

Yesterday I cleaned my room. And tried to catch up on house type chores like washing clothes, folding clothes, and putting clothes away. Ah, dear laundry, so much goes into being dressed.

I also had time with Ellie. Last week was so busy that even when I was home I wasn't plugged into my  kids the way I usually try to be. So she had a LOT of talking to do-making up for lost time and whatnot. On a side note, once she asked me, "Mommy, if you die and go to heaven will you still be able to hear every single thing I say to you?" and Marc whispered, "It depends on if she's in heaven or not." Such is Ellie's need to keep me apprised of all things she is thinking.

So here are some of the gems I got to enjoy today.

When we were in the car on our way to Trader Joe's she said, "Mommy, did you know some people think that the sun is alive?"
"No," I said, "Some pretend people on Doctor Who thought that the sun was alive."
"Right," she answered, "But the people who made up Doctor Who thought it."

Later we were at the mall and when we walked past Abercrombie and Fitch she asked, "Mommy? What is that place?" "It's a clothing store," I said. "Then why does it look so much like a club?" she wondered. "I don't know," I answered, "Maybe it's so people feel like they are part of a special club when they shop there."
"That's dumb," she decided, "Anyone can go in. It's not that special."

Right on I thought.

We were at the mall because Ellie got her ears pierced for her birthday and now she has had the earrings in long enough that she can take out the original cubic zirconium studs and get fun ones from Claire's. She has been living for this day, I tell you what. 

So we were at Claire's. Looking at earrings. Lots and lots of earrings. For a really long time. And I was oohing and ahhing over all of the cute little animals, and peace signs, and butterflies when she exclaimed from the front of the store, "I FOUND THE ONES!" 
"You did?" I said, "What are they?"
"They are DONUTS and they have GOOGLY EYES and they are so CUTE and I LOVE THEM!" she told me excitedly.

So we bought them and put them in her ears right there in the store.

It's a donut. With google eyes.

I've just realized why the fly lady is called the fly lady. It's because moms have to FLY around the house to get all their chores done and food available and clean clothes occasionally folded.

And that is why I can't wait to get these silly stitches OUT of my foot, because my fly-abilities have been seriously curtailed. I want to fly again.

Plus they itch.

Today is the day (oh I hope I hope); wish me luck!

The problem with spending my day on this DIY project:is that I don't get to this do it myself project. How did the shoemaker get those elves anyway? I mean, I'm nice. I'll make some little clothes or something. They just won't get washed.

We got home yesterday from our wonderful vacation and today it is time to pay for it.

Right before we left we had the incident with the skunk, then my washer flooded the laundry room twice, so I pretty much wiped up all the water with dirty towels and then fled for Santa Barbara.

It was beautiful, the ocean, the flowers... I didn't spend a second thinking about what might be percolating in my laundry room. However, this morning as I unpack and shake sand out of all and sundry I am faced with the fact that damp skunk towels do not just go away (If I only had one wish...).

Still, I am ah, "excited" isn't really the right word, let's go with motivated. Yes, I am motivated to clean out the laundry room and see if I can see the floor once more. Maybe I'll even work my way down the hall and tackle the (also damp) pile of clothes my daughters discarded into the furnace room.

Aaaaand we're back!

I have to have the worst assortment of towels ever. Years ago, when Marc and I were first married we had a nice set of lovely matching towels that were wedding gifts from people who loved us and had checked our Macy's registry and bought us towels. Lovely lovely matching towels. The joy.

But while we were living in our first little studio (fold out of the wall bed, I am not even kidding), I left those sweet defenseless towels in the common laundry area and they were towel napped. I was naive enough to write a note begging for their release and left it in the laundry room but, as you may have guessed, there was no mercy.

And that was the beginning of my towel mismatch misery. Probably that was so long ago that I can't really blame all my towel woes on the incident, but I've never really recovered.

I tried buying matching white towels that I thought I could bleach and keep white, but don't do that because it does not work. Now I have a bunch of white towels that feel nice but look dirty the minute they come out of the dryer and no amount of treatments make a different.

Once I worked at Williams and Sonoma and so I acquired their lovely matching dish towels, but they are super worn out now and I just keep using them. Dish towels at my house run the risk of scary encounters with 409 with bleach anyway; they all end up speckled.

Once I bought lovely fancy company type towels to stage a house Marc built and when that was over I took them home and SWORE that they would stay nice and only come out for company and that worked for awhile until they turned up in the laundry one day with oil paint all over them.

When I interrogated the children Katie admitted that she had used them to protect her desk from getting messy while she painted. "Why! Why these ones?" I cried. And she told me sweetly that she picked ones that she thought I didn't like because I never use them.

See?

No, I don't know what is wrong with me. I don't know why I'm writing about this. Plus even when we get some nice new towels I have to keep all of the old ones (because is why) so the entire collection, as it were, never looks lovely matchy anyway.

The end.

The laundry has been against me all week. It is sneaky. It gets in the washer but then won't get into the dryer and I have to wash it again because it gets stinky sitting in there overnight (who knows what it does down there in the dark).

I bring it up to the couch so it can watch TV for the afternoon, then move it to my bed to make room when the kids get home...(is my blog, can talk about laundry if I want).

I think some socks get lost along the way. When I go to bed I push the whole pile back into a basket and hope the dog leaves it alone.

Today is Wednesday, if I try really hard, maybe I can finish it and be done for a week. Hope was the only thing left in Pandora's box you know.