My husband and I just returned from a wonderful 9 day holiday to London England and Jersey Channel Island. We had an amazing time and London (well, we stayed in Westminster) has got to be, by far, the coolest place on earth. It old and new. Exciting and relaxing. It has everything from palaces to leather clad transvestites all squeezed together in this breathtaking 30 block radius. We were able to see priceless works of art at the National Gallery, then after a quick walk down the road, a movie premiere where we saw Chris Hemsworth (Thor) and David Hasselhoff a few feet away! Only in London can you stand on the corner and see Big Ben and Westminster Abbey in all their glory, while right beside you is some fiddle-playing street musician frozen solid until you toss money in his case.
I learned so much on this vacation about history, art, culture and my wonderful family living on the other side of the ocean. Do you know what else I learned? I’m bat-shit crazy.
I’ve always been...anxious before going away, even if just for the weekend. I make lists and more lists, I pack and repack and I pace around my home daydreaming about all the possible things that could, and probably will, go wrong. I try and plan and prepare for these unforeseen events, no matter how obscure. Plane crash? No problem, I have my “In Case of Death” fact sheet for the grandparents, complete with insurance, will and financial institution information and passwords.
In a word… Nutbar. I just lose my freaking mind before going away. This time was by far the worst yet. It wasn’t just that I was leaving my three babies for 9 days, it was more the fact that the grandparents were staying in MY HOME during that time. I imagined their horrified faces as they discovered all my deep, dark, dirty home secrets. Mold in the master shower that never comes off no matter how hard I scrub and that stuff “growing” in the bottom of the vegetable crisper. I stressed over everything from how to work the television (I left typed out instructions that resemble those used by NASA) to whether or not I should fold my underwear drawer. The idea of having people living in my home for over a week sent me over the edge of the cliff of sanity. I fell so far, I’m not sure I’ll ever return.
I’ll tell you a little secret. I am not, in anyway, a naturally clean and organized person. I’ve taken the “fake it ’til you make it” approach, which has served me well thus far but truth be told, it’s all just an act. I work really hard to keep my home clean and clutter-free, but there are many areas where I just come up short. My purse? Garbage can with straps. My van? Appalling dump heap that will gag you on a hot day. My home? Clean and Clutter-free-ish, but not perfect by any means. Having an Organizing Blog means that people expect my home to be clean and organized all the time, right? That just isn’t reality. I have three kids, two cats and I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to putting things away. I work crazy hard to stay on top of laundry and housework, but I don’t always get there.
So I suppose this is my disclaimer. If you are coming to my home for a visit, it won’t be perfect. If you are moving in for a week, you will find the occasional cobweb, moldy leftover container in the fridge, dust bunnies, unfolded clothes in the drawers and a laundry room that is just a disaster. Sigh.