But Rembrandt was not afraid of baths

Or at least I am going to assume that he was not. And that is why painting would have been so much more enjoyable for him. Or at least his mother. Not that his mother was probably still bathing him when he was an artist..... but who knows, those artsy types can be weird :)

Anyway, the point of all of this is that today I decided to let Charli loose with some poster paints and her art easel. Partly because I wanted to paint her toy oven and thought that it was only fair that she too be allowed to paint, and partly because I feel that I've been a little remiss in not allowing my nearly 2 year old to discover the joys of painting. I was wrong. She should not have been allowed to play with paints until she was also old enough to date - and if her father has anything to do with that then we are talking at least another 20 or 30 years!!

So here is the artiste herself....



Though more paint seemed to end up on her than the easel...


And here is where the problems really began. See all the paint in her hair...??



It is at this point that I realise that wiping a wet washer over her to clean her up is no longer an option. A bath is called for....with hair washing......and much scrubbing. Which leads me to suddenly remember that as of a week ago my child is terrified of baths (or showers in case that was going to be your suggestion). And when you throw 'hair washing' into the equation, well toss me a valium and pour me a vodka because our house is about to become filled with screams of terror that rival those heard in any funhouse carnival across the country. My heart sinks as I realise that the bath is inevitable....... its that or let her stay on the back porch painting forever but somehow that doesn't seem feasible.

So into the bath we go. The screaming begins. Shampoo is added to the equation and the screaming ramps up a notch. Normally I try and gently wash the shampoo from her head but by now she's thrashing so much and has managed to get paint and shampoo into her eyes and the screeching is doing my head in... I realise that if it's going to be this painful it may as well be fast and painful so I do something that will speed up the process but was also guaranteed to send her into a frenzied panic (and I was not disappointed). I turned on the shower. To my shock and surprise, when presented with enough motivation, my two year old can flip herself out of the bath onto the floor...... of course I had the shower hose in my hand so when i turned to try and catch her, water flew everywhere and there was no option at this point except to throw myself into the shower (fully clothed) with her and just hose her down. My ears are still bleeding from the noise!

So there you go - art time at our place ended with a toddler sobbing in her bed and a mummy desperately wishing that it was not too early to start drinking at 10am (that is too early right?). Let's hope Dave appreciates the masterpiece she did him.

People in glass houses....

So on my current theme of de-cluttering and cleaning I've been reading some interesting stuff on hoarders and their personality types (not surprisingly to me, hoarders are known to have perfectionist traits). Now it is fair to say that one thing I most often nag my husband about is his inability to throw things away. His favourite catchphrase is "it might be useful one day" and lo and behold the other day he took great delight in pointing out to me that he was indeed using some of the old wood that he had stored up under the house. I was monumentally proud (rolls eyes) LOL

Anyway, in my recent days of de-cluttering I realise that I too hoard to a great extent it is just that my reasons for hoarding are different. While Dave hoards things in case they may one day become important, according to a website I found about obsessive compulsive disorder, I seem to hoard things that one day in the distant past were important to me. Apparently my inability to throw away a little box of badges (the kind you stick on your shirt - I used to collect these for god knows what reason) means that I am afraid that in some way I am letting go of some part of my life, no matter how seemingly insignficant. And I can totally understand that. When I open this box of trinkets and see the Tangalooma badge that I got at Grade 5 camp or the TAA wings I got when I flew on an aeroplane for the first time when I was 10 years old. ..... well these things make me smile. And they prompt memories that were long since forgotten. Perhaps it is for this reason that I find it so difficult to let these seemingly small and insignificant objects go. But then what does one do about the clutter? Is there some way to retain these memorabilia without your house becoming like this?

Motivation to de-clutter dies after realising it's not that bad

Dave sent me a website address today to make me feel better about just how cluttered our house is not....... I no longer feel the need to de-clutter like a maniac. I'll just keep it neat like a normal person does. I have de-registered from FlyLady after receiving a total of 39 emails from her yesterday regarding keeping my house clean. I spent so much time reading the emails there was no time left to clean.

Who put the cat amongst the pigeons?

So how is my Day 2 of keeping the house clean going I hear you ask? Well, firstly let me say that the sink is again not polished. Nor will it ever be....this is not a suggestion I am willing to take on board in the hopes that it will somehow improve my life. I am willing to take that risk. I did manage to shower and put on some make-up but at the point when my hair was about to be done everything went a little pearshaped so I'm afraid I failed on being totally ready to start my day 'dressed to laces' according to FlyLady.net

In the interests of balancing my new 'de-cluttering' with other forms of entertainment, my godson and his mum visited this morning and when charli suggested we 'eat chits' (translation: feed the chickens) I thought that would be something fun for the kids to do together. Note: we don't own chooks, we are just feeding them for our next door neighbours who are away at the moment. Charli absolutely loves feeding the chooks and in fact it has become her catchphrase every morning "chits? chits?". I have to convince her that mummy is not ready to face chickens before she has had breakfast and at least got out of her pyjamas. Somehow going to feed the chickens while still wearing my pyjamas just does not seem right. I'm not sure why. I am sure they would not be offended.

Anyway, so over we go to feed the chickens (two eggs today!!) and there is a pigeon flying around in the caged henhouse!! How he got in there I have NO idea but the fact is he could not get out and was going psycho! So we let the chooks out into the yard in the hopes that the pigeon would just mosey on out the door and fly away....... but nope (stupid bird) - he just keeps flying around in a mad panic and then hitting the floor. I go to walk into the enclosure further than my customary 1 m when i spy this HUGE spider in a web at about face height and all thoughts of valiantly saving the pigeon are erased from my mind - he can figure it out himself! I decide to leave the chooks in the yard for the day and hope the pigeon leaves the henhouse before nightfall when i'll have to return the henhouse to its rightful owners.....

However not 10 minutes later a huge black cat is chasing the pigeon around the henhouse and then heads out for the chooks. At this point i just want to get the chooks back into their henhouse before they get attacked (no chicken is gonna die on MY watch!) - the pigeon finally got smart and took off out of there and the chickens got chased by two over-enthusiastic toddlers back into their cage. And so ends another rather non-productive day in my household - not one thing was de-cluttered but I'd be keen to hear FlyLady's take on how to manage all of her housework and keep the cats out of the henhouse. Surely even she couldn't manage it???

Day 1 of de-cluttering - a sparkling sink?

well according to FlyLady, in order to start on my 31 day path to de-cluttering my house and restoring order to my otherwise dis-orderly home and life, today I was meant to undertake just one task. This task was to set me on the path to a cleaner and brighter home life. This task? To shine my sink! yes you heard it folks, take a scrubbing brush and silver polish and shine the kitchen sink. I have to ask WHAT THE ?? My urge to shine my freaking kitchen sink was somewhat overshadowed by my desire to even SEE MY LOUNGE ROOM FLOOR. Now there is a task that needed doing. But my kitchen sink?

So I did what FlyLady specifically said not to do and I leaped to Day 2 to see what monumentally important task was on the agenda for that day - and to be fair "get up and get dressed to laced shoes including hair and face" was an improvement on the kitchen sink polishing suggestion. I do find that one of my downfalls is not showering until sometimes midday. Not that I don't think that I have a perfectly decent excuse for poor hygiene practices some days. With a toddler who is nearly two and a newborn who has good intentions of sleeping but is kept awake by the aforementioned toddler, well you can imagine some days that the priority of hair washing takes a major backseat to just staying sane. But I digress......

So today I made it my task to get up and dressed before any of the children could awaken - a task made more urgent by the fact that the dishwasher repairman was arriving at 7am - or midday - or anywhere in between. I don't know why companies like to do this to you - in this day of modern technology when they have service calls logged on high-speed computers and mobile service vans equipped with all of the technology one could want - is it too much to ask that you narrow my service call timeframe to a little under 5 hours? But then I shouldn't complain really.... it's not like I had anything more important today than to polish my sink.

But back to getting dressed before midday..... I did take objection and refuse to go the laced up shoes - one doesn't really need their boots on to polish sinks or change pooey nappies in my opinion. I did however let my hair see a brush for the first time in two days and if 'doing my face' was achieved by the splash of water thrown in my eyes and the quick swipe of lip gloss across my lips then allow me to tick that task off for today.

I had a go at the de-cluttering in 15 minutes thing but to tell an a-type-personality that she has to 'de-clutter for 15 minutes and then stop and do this again tomorrow until all the clutter is gone' - well, why don't you just tell me to take a blunt kitchen knife and draw it repeatedly across my arm until it falls off in a bloody stump on the kitchen floor (I bet FlyLady has a great suggestion for cleaning blood stains off linoleum though don't you think??). I mean really, as if I could just stop cleaning after 15 minutes. If you want to de-clutter then you have to get serious about it - at least spend 2 hours moving the clutter from one room to the next until it all ends up in one room at the back of the house and you can close the door and pretend that room does not exist. So that is what I did. The lounge room is now looking half-way presentable and the kitchen is on the road to being fully de-cluttered by tomorrow. Of course we can no longer open the door to the computer room and David is just going to have to understand that it's time to give up his computers and get a new profession because, well I'm sorry honey, but we just can't get to the PC's anymore. We all have to make sacrifices to live a clutter free life.

I'll let you know how Day 2 goes.

Carla

Because I too need to de-clutter

To dear Michelle and Meegan and all my other friends who feel the need as Autumn is approaching (okay well not really but one day soon!!) to de-clutter their lives..... here is an extra special website by FlyLady - I'm starting on her baby steps beginners daily plan tomorrow..... I'll let you know how I go! Have fun de-cluttering and let me know how you go.

Carla

A Swiper Catastrophe

I am putting clothes away. Charli is watching Dora the Explorer. She comes running in, face full of concern.

"Uh-oh, Siper wa, Siper Wa, uh-oh. Mummy!!"
I look up, knowing full well what this means.

"Swiper {the fox} fell in the water did he?"

"Yes, Mummy! Siper, Wa, uh-oh, uh-oh"

This tirade of painful concern for Swiper the Fox - who is known for always swiping everyone's stuff, so I'm not so sure why she is concerned, I say let the fox drown - could have gone on for hours so I thought it best to intervene and lay her little troubled head to rest.

"It's okay Charli, Dora and Boots will save him."

I say this with a degree of authority that comes with having seen this show once or 65 times in the past 6 months. Plus Dora is essentially the queen of good deeds so let's face it, she isn't going to let that pesky fox drown.

Charli looks at me - the mummy who always knows best. She nods her head wisely. Yes, if mummy says that Dora will save him then it will be so. She smiles and walks away. Oh if only she will always believe me as she does at this moment.

What shall we do with a drunken sailor...