Wednesday

I have no self-discipline. Not a lick. Okay, that’s not fair to say, I have some, where it REALLY matters. I don't play in toilet water or go outside nekkid. But when it comes to things like dieting, or implementing positive daily or weekly habits I last about 2 hours. I want to change this about myself and I've been pondering a lot on what it takes to become the kind of person who persists in the face of laziness or discouragement. Lumped in with this is keeping my house clean. I'm not talking museum-clean, there's something just as wrong with those people as there is with me. I have been to homes where my liquid refreshment was swiped from my hand as it was being raised to my parched lips. All in the name of tidiness. Not me, fo’ sho! I'm talking about, taking the dirty diaper immediately to the trash and not getting distracted by the videos sprawled on the floor, or a book nearby, or the computer...

My self-worth is not wrapped up in how clean my house is nor do I estimate other's worth based on that. But there is a wonderful feeling that comes with walking into a clean room. I have really been thinking about this a lot and things I can do to help my transition into being a neat person. I don't think there's ever a danger of me becoming compulsive, but I wouldn't mind borderline compulsiveness. These are the things I think will help, and I'd like any ideas or input anyone else has.
1) Delayed gratification. Clean for 10 or 15 minutes or do a workout video before I use the computer or go to bed or read a book or watch tv. I'm all about the here and now since I became an adult and get to choose that if I want.
2) Take care of it as soon as I'm done. Pull Avery out of the highchair, set her down (even though she loves after-meal kisses) and clean off her highchair tray. This sounds SO SIMPLE. But it's not for me. I am the queen of distraction. While I was pulling Avery from her high chair and indulging in some of her affection, I caught a whiff of Ben's newest addition to his Bob the Builder underwear and Thomas swim shoes ensemble.
"Ben, did you poop?"
"Yes mom. (with a dramatic sadness for effect) I pooped on Bob mom, I did."
"Oh Ben (with non-dramatic sadness, for I will be doing the cleaning), why did that happen?"
"Betuz...betuz, change me mom!"

So I go change him, forget about the highchair, and now I'm blogging about it.

3) Make my word mean something to myself. Say it aloud, and stick with it. This is my own made up technique of something I can do and become successful at and later write a self-help book on how to conquer the world, one positive affirmation at a time. If I say I'll do something to other people, I do it. Except with Jay. I often tell him I'll sit and listen to the latest breakthrough of world oil discovery changing the face of peak oil futures indefinitely---I tell him I will, but I won't. And I don't even know if the preceding sentence makes sense. But it's words I hear him say and I can make an educated guess at how to string them together. So, with that exception of Jay and various topics, my resolve and commitment to myself should mean just as much as my commitments to other people.

Today my house is clean. Jay left me with a very clean kitchen before going to New Jersey and I've managed to maintain. I cleaned before I went to bed last night and when Ben got up this morning he asked, "Who is toming over mom?" Who taught that kid to talk!? In addition to my house, my kids are fed and clean. I'm not. Should that be on my list of accomplishments? Baby steps Angela, baby steps.

Okay before I go, I have an anecdote or two that need to be included. Along with my yet unachievable goals of being a slender, super-nutritious, well-read, tidy person being documented, I'd also like to remember the little things my kids do everyday that just make me laugh.

Last night in a late-night foraging I found some candy-filled Easter Eggs in the cupboard that didn't make it to the baskets. I removed the plastic wrap that had SpongeBob on it and tried one of the egg treasures. It was Dora candy and it was horrible. I replaced all the eggs; put the wrapper in a bag of trash by the door to take out this morning. What I forgot, is that Ben is a dumpster diver in training. When he got up, he did some foraging of his own. He found the SpongeBob wrapper in the trash. He immediately brings it to me and the interrogating ensues. "What was in this? What did you eat in this? Who eated this? Where's the rest of it?" I TRIED to blow him off with a vague half-truth like, "It was a yucky snack that's gone now." 2 minutes later he returns to me and says, "Where is the Dora candy you had yesterday?" I spin around looking for the mommy-cam hidden in one of his toys. I try to figure out if he realizes what he's asking or is just hoping to be right. Turns out he recognized the SpongeBob wrapping from when I brought it home 5 days ago with about 12 other bags of groceries. "Yesterday" is any day in the past for Ben.

Avery had a doctor's appointment yesterday and it's almost like she knew the appointment was just for her. She talked almost nonstop (seriously, one of the cutest things ever---she really goes for it and has some consistent words but they aren’t words I've heard from any sober, English speakers) and when the doctor dared to "include" Benjamin, Avery screeched at him and would smack his hand away from Ben. I can't get mad; she learned the behavior from Ben. She also learned to hit back and I can't say it isn’t funny. She reciprocated one of Ben's impulsive shoves with a rapid fire of slaps from her eency, weency little hand. Even Ben laughed.