Wreck

My house is a wreck. It looks like that tornado hit us after all. It started with Brady leaving his dumpster finds scattered around the living room and it ended with me literally not keeping house for a week and a half. I've been a bad house keeper lately...



There are piles of folded laundry covering the couch along with two baskets that still need to be folded, dishes piled so high in the sink that one more plate might send the whole disaster crashing to the floor, clothes at the foot of our bed that need to be hung in the closet, and then there are the random piles-- baby clothes, baby blankets, baby toys... my house has never been so messy.



I started my work on the kitchen this morning after Availeth went down for her mid-morning nap. There were so many dishes that I ran out of hot water before I finished so I sat down with a glass of ice water and a lot on my mind. I'm giving myself 15 minutes--to let the water heat back up--before I go to work again.



There is something about doing dishes that makes me very philosophical. The thoughts I have while doing the dishes rival the thoughts I have in the shower--which are always very deep and meaningful. I reflect on life while I scrub or sometimes I sing show tunes--both very good things.



On Easter morning I slipped into the shower expecting Brady to follow and got glimpse of my new hair do in the mirror. Which reminds me of Liza Minnelli, who in turn reminded me of how much I love Cabaret, and how hard I studied with my vocal coach in California to learn all of the German in Mein Herr... which reminded me how much I love to sing in German and then there was no stopping me.

In the car on the way to church Brady told me he was glad he didn't get in with me because then I would have never gotten out.



It's true. The two of us in there together is bad news because I become a silly goose. Singing louder and more enthusiastically which in turn encourages Brady to get silly and sing silly things with me--and then we're locked in this silly battle with silly voices and faces and bubbles. Lots of bubbles.



We're awesome. But we don't get a lot accomplished most days.

Hilarious picture I took the day before Easter. Spot the bunny?

Which brings me back to my wreck of a house.



Which I really should be tending to now instead of dilly dallying on the computer.




Auf wiedersehen, mein Herr.

Taking Out the Trash

You know how everyone has ideas about what a man should do around the house, and what a woman should do? Typically those ideas are grown from your parents ideas about what chores are proper for men, and what chores are proper for women. Like mowing the lawn, and taking out the trash is a mans job, doing the laundry, and cleaning the grout is a womans. That is what I grew up believing at least.

When I moved to Colorado a couple years ago to attend the New Life School of Worship I shared an apartment with two girls my age that also attended the school. I grew up living with six guys so there were things that I just never did around the house.

1. Mow the lawn
2. Take out the trash
3. Scoop the poop
4. Any kind of car maintenance
5. Any kind of yard work
etc.

Living with two girls (that came from families with lots of woman) was difficult in the respect that it was ingrained in me that I still should not have to take out the garbage (we didn't have grass, or yards, or shared vehicles, or animals or I'm sure we would have had more issues than trash).

It was crammed so far into my DNA that the thought of taking it out never actually entered my mind. It was something I never had to think about before. It would always magically disappear and a brand new empty bag would appear. Just like that. I was blessed.

So why am I sharing all this useless information with you? Because school was cancelled today and I've been working on my homework for the last two hours. Deciding it was high time for a break I ventured into the kitchen to find an overflowing trash can. Not only is it overflowing, the sight alone wouldn't have penetrated that deep, but the smell ranks about a 7 on the "worst smells I've ever smelled" list. All of these years of being blessed by brothers who know their place, and fights with roommates because I couldn't get over myself came flooding back to me. I raced back to our bedroom and my laptop knowing that I had to record this momentous occasion.

You guys... I'm going to take out the trash.

The embodiment of the dreaded chore itself.

I never knew it was so hard to pull a bag out of a plastic tub. 

Finally. 

I was on a roll.

Sitting safely outside where it will not bother anyones senses ever again... Except for Brady's when I make him take it out to the curb. Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day! 

P.S. You can click on the pictures to make them bigger! I just discovered this!