Author: Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes

Just Let Us Run

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 1 Comment

Dear men of the world,

Stop catcalling women. Let us walk down the street. Let us finish our workout in peace. Let us enjoy our run. Stop honking your horns. Stop whistling. Stop acting like predators. Stop being predators.

STOP. Just let us run.

I have complained about the catcalls and inappropriate behavior of the male race before. Usually it is met by an eye-roll or two. So many insist that,

“Deep down, women actually love that shit.”

Yes. Outrageous as it seems, I have been told that we actually love this unsolicited attention. I have had a conversation with a group of men, during which my girlfriends and I pleaded with them to never, ever harass a woman jogger again. We promised these men that no, deep down, women do not love being catcalled. We actually all have a festering, deep-seeded rage that threatens to boil up to the surface every single time it happens. I personally have fantasized about taking a substantial tree branch to a catcaller’s rusted pick-up truck, and busting the ever-living crap out of it. I would be lying if I said I have never had to stop myself from walking up to a guy and round-housing him right in the neck. One man, a good friend actually, asked me,

“If you don’t like the attention when you workout, why don’t you just cover up? Wear baggier pants and stuff?”

Here’s a post-workout selfie, showing an example of typical workout clothes I wear. This picture wasn’t taken because I was feeling sexy or wanted sexual attention. This picture was taken because I felt strong and proud of myself.

That pisses me right the hell off. Why do I have to cover up on an 80-degree day, while men can run around wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts and Nike’s? They get to feel safe. Nobody yells at them out car windows and makes them feel self-conscious about their bodies. The chances of them getting grabbed off a path and raped in the bushes are quite low. They don’t have to focus on making eye contact with every passer-by to lower their chances of being attacked. They don’t have to secretly turn off the music in their earbuds when they pass a stranger to make sure they can hear if somebody decides to approach from behind. They don’t need to worry about sticking to busy streets so that there are plenty of eye witnesses and help available in the event that their personal space is violated. I wonder what that is like? To just throw on your shorts and go? Focus 100% on your workout? Not have a tiny jar of mace in your waistband? I can’t even fathom that freedom.

I got ready for a run today. I threw on a sports bra, tank top and a pair of fitness capri leggings. I tossed my hair into a ponytail, slipped on my running shoes, popped in my earbuds and took off. I didn’t look in a mirror. I didn’t consider my appearance, because why in the hell would what I look like matter in that moment? I had no make up on and put zero effort into how I looked. My thoughts focused solely on the practicality of my run, yet it’s my fault that I got catcalled because my clothing was tight? Here’s the thing: Baggy clothes make it hard to run. Cotton sweats hold in heat and get bogged down with sweat. Why in the hell do women need to think twice about what they wear during a workout?

Reasons I wear tight clothes to workout:

  1. Moisture-wicking fabric keeps me cool as I sweat LIKE ANY OTHER HUMAN BEING.
  2. My sports bra holds my boobs up. It has one legit job and it doesn’t fail me, provided it fits properly. Proper fit for a sports bra requires it to be tight to the skin.
  3. The leggings are like a second skin, moving with my body and allowing me full range of motion.
  4. These leggings, unlike bulky sweatpants, also reduce thigh friction. The thigh friction struggle IS REAL. Am I right, ladies? Nobody wants to end an hour of running with raw thigh skin. Nobody.
  5. Leggings designed for running also have a pouch that securely holds a cell phone in the waistband, so I can take it along for my run without it being cumbersome to hold or knocking around loosely in a pocket.
  6. Bright colors and reflective material on the clothes keep me safe by allowing me to be spotted from a distance by the bikers and drivers that share the sidewalks, streets and paths with runners.

And that is just to name a few! Workout and running clothes have practical purposes. In fact, my workout clothes cover more of my body than some other everyday outfits I have seen people wearing out in public. I am fully covered when I workout, from chest to knee. I am not wearing these clothes to be sexually suggestive. In fact, looking sexy is the absolute LAST thing on my mind when I am running. I’m mostly focused on my time, form, distance, trying not to sound like a freight train while gasping for oxygen, and most importantly, the amount of extra food I’ll be able to eat after burning off these 300 calories.

Until, that is, some asshole decides to hang his stupid head out a car window and start the inevitable bullshit that every woman alive is all too familiar with.

“Hey blondie! Who you runnin’ from!?”

“Damn girl! Look at that body! Keepin’ it tight!”

“Owwww owwwww!”

Orrrrr there’s always the traditional whistle and horn honk, if they are passing by without time to articulate one of the oh-so-eloquent sentences above.

One of my girlfriends was running, and had to stop at a cross walk. She was innocently stretching her calves while waiting for the traffic signal to change. (This is a completely normal behavior while running, may I add. Nothing sexually suggestive about calf stretches.) This was when a guy stuck his arm out the car window and snapped a picture of her. He followed that up by screaming, “DAMN, GIRL! SPANK BANK!” before the light changed and he drove off. So now there is a picture of her, in a vulnerable position, taken without her permission, on a stranger’s phone. If you don’t know what a spank bank is, I’ll let you google that on your own time. Are you offended for her? Because I certainly am.

Now I cannot speak entirely for her, but I can tell you that the minute anything like that happens to me, my mind snaps back from whatever enjoyable, relaxing place it has gone during my run. My thoughts are then focused purely on my personal safety. I now know those men noted my presence. They know what I look like, what I am wearing and what road I am running down. They went out of their way to target me and call out. If they took the time to call out, how many other men noted my presence and didn’t call out? Did any of them take a picture? What if they did? How do you think that makes me, or any other woman in that position, feel? I’ll tell you what, we certainly are NOT flattered. We definitely are NOT secretly loving it.

WE EFFING HATE IT.

This is why I cannot run the same routes day-to-day and week-to-week. This is why I have to make sure my husband knows my routes and how long I should be gone. This is why I wear a GPS tracker on my runs. This is why I carry mace in my waistband. Women runners are told to ALWAYS change our routes and times of our runs. Don’t be predictable. It makes you a target. Somebody could note the route you are running and the time of day, and they might return to that spot at that time tomorrow, or a week from now. They could watch you for a day or two, and then you are prey. You are no longer simply training for your half marathon or 5k. Now you are a victim. Some will call you paranoid, but if you don’t do all this? If you think you can just leave your house wearing a sports bra and leggings for a run, and God-forbid, something terrible happens?

On some level, society will view that as your own fault. You will have to carry some of the blame for what a man has done to you. YOU wore the tight clothes. YOU forgot the mace. YOU took the same route at the same time every Saturday morning. How could YOU be so stupid? You silly girl. You made yourself vulnerable, and YOU let the bad guy catch you.

So, men in my life, I need you to understand all of this. I need you to look at how you are able to walk around, every day, feeling safe and secure. I need you to realize that all the women you know do not have that same freedom and security. Take a minute and think about it. I need you to help us get there some day. I don’t want to produce another generation of boys that think this behavior is acceptable. I don’t want my little girls to know what it feels like to be catcalled. I don’t want them to EVER have to look at their own clothing, body, appearance, routine or actions and think that it must have been their own fault that they were sexually harassed. I don’t want our generation of adults to shrug it off as “boys being boys” and “that girl was asking for it”.

Please start with setting the example. I need you to stop catcalling women. Stop thinking it’s okay for other men to catcall women. Stop telling us to cover ourselves up. Stop taking pictures of us without our permission. Stop leering at our bodies. Stop insisting that we love being sexually harassed.

Stop rape culture.

Just let us run.

Save

A Toast to the Moms Without Manicures

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ Leave a comment

Recently after picking up my daughter from dance class, I had an invaluable lesson in self-image from none other than my 6-year-old. It went something like this:

“Mom! Guess what! My friend Sophia said her mom was beautiful. Then Maddie said her mom was more beautiful. But ya know what I said?! I said that YOU were the most beautiful. Because I know you are the most beautiful mommy in the whole world!”

There are a few things I was able to conclude during my stunned silence:

  1. How adorable it is that a group of kindergarteners spent their free time in dance class talking about their mommies.
  2. That they all really do believe in their little hearts that they each have the most beautiful mommy in the world, to the point that they experienced an actual disagreement over it.
  3. That more moms need to be aware that these conversations are happening, and it’s a very good thing.

These days, if I’m being honest, I certainly feel anything but beautiful. I feel rushed and busy. I feel good about fitting into my skinny jeans, but bad about the fact that I own nothing but tee-shirts to pair with them. I feel like I need an extra cup of coffee to get through my day. I feel like I probably should have put on some blush today since I ran into an acquaintance at Walgreen’s while picking up a prescription for my youngest daughter, who currently has strep throat, looking like something the cat dragged in. I feel like it wouldn’t kill me to put on a pair of shoes that aren’t combat boots, until the practicality of my day sets in and I say “F THAT” and throw on the same busted pair of combat boots I have been rocking for 3 years and running. I feel like I wish I had cut my workout 20 minutes earlier to hit the shower so that I could show up at my daughter’s dance studio not smelling like a gym rat for just once in my life. I feel like I should have taken the time to wash the paint splatters off my arms and hands, but honestly didn’t even notice them until I was standing here in the school pick-up line, again, covered in paint splatters. I feel like I desperately need my hair done, but don’t feel like spending the $200.00 it will cost me to get it back to looking fabulous. Hell, what’s the point? I wear baseball hats 5 days a week anyway. What’s a few more weeks without a touch up? The state of my nails could be described as an embarrassment at best. My cuticles have run rampant and my nails haven’t seen polish since I stood up in a friend’s wedding 7 months ago. Please don’t cringe like that. It hurts me.

So yea. Beautiful isn’t a word that’s included in my current self-assessments.

Back in the day, when I thought I was “busy” working a couple of part-time jobs and going to college, I still managed to keep up my beauty regimen. My well-planned series of treatments, dyes, bleach and wax transformed me from a regular girl into a goddess, really. Despite my crazy schedule, I had infinity time to spend at the gym. I showered, blow-dried my hair and applied makeup EVERY SINGLE DAY. I got manicures, pedicures, spray tans and whitened my teeth every other week. I got my hair professionally touched up and my eyebrows waxed every other month. I got facials regularly. I sported smokey eyes and contoured cheek bones when I went out every night. I exfoliated and moisturized and conditioned my skin and hair until everything was softer than a brand spankin’ new baby’s behind. Face masks? Yes. Hair masks? Double yes. Paraffin wax on my hands and feet? LIKE THERE’S EVEN A QUESTION?! YES. (I mean what if someone glances down at my feet in my strappy shoes and they look dry around the heels? THE HORROR.) I put thought, time and energy into my appearance. Back then, I definitely felt beautiful.

Soooo fast forward to now, and my beauty routine consists of tinted moisturizer, mascara and chapstick – on days the public is lucky. If I wash my hair, you might see me with it down that day! Chances are its soaking wet because the thought of blow drying it with a round brush until it was perfectly smooth, yet voluminous, makes me want to stab out my own two eyes with said round brush. If I washed it yesterday, it’s DEFINITELY up in a top knot by now. If it’s been 2+ days since a shampoo (and that’s basically 80% of my life, folks!) …..I’ll let you in on this beauty secret….ponytail and White Sox hat. Try not to be envious of my natural sense of style. I know, it’s hard. Want to hear a funny story? I watched a beauty vlogger style her hair with dry shampoo once. I even went out and bought some after that. It’s still sealed and will probably sit in my bathroom cabinet for all eternity. REAL TALK, PEOPLE.

I used to spend hours buying, trying on and styling outfits. I had coordinated clothing. I was rocking the latest trends. I even owned cute bras, because I actually needed to wear them before I had two kids suck all that was living right out of my boobs. Want to know what I wear now???

Painting clothes.

Exhibit A: Painting clothes, top knot and beer, because that’s my real life.

Part of being a DIY junkie means getting your hands dirty sanding, priming, painting, distressing, sealing, etc. Once paint splatters onto an article of clothing, it becomes “painting clothes”. I have an entire drawer full of painting clothes. Usually I am rushing to finish a project in between drop-offs and pick-ups of kids to various schools, sports and activities. I don’t always have time to change into clothing suitable for public. Consequences of that = I look effing homeless. Occupational hazard, I guess.

If I’m not wearing painting clothes, then I’m wearing workout clothes. I have to squeeze daily workouts into those precious fragments of time in-between my kids’ activities, meals, what have you. Therefore, I don’t always have time to shower, let alone change into clean clothes, before running out the door. Upside = my body is still bangin’, yo! Downside = again with the homeless look. A girl can’t have it all! Which brings me back full circle to that whole bra thing…. I wear sports bras every damn day. If I’m hoisting these sad lumps of flesh that my hungry babies have left behind into a real bra, I better also be drinking wine from a bottle that cost more than $10 and eating a meal of food prepped by a professional chef. Since those nights are rare these days, hellooo sports bra! (There were days I would read something like that and be ashamed for the poor soul who wrote it, but now I’m just proud of myself for taking the time to use support at all. The concept of free-boobing is quite tempting.)

I know there are moms out there who still look fabulous every day. I see them, and I look at them in awe. I probably could do that too, if I reallyyyy wanted to. Maybe I should get up at 5:00 in the morning, workout, shower, blow-dry my hair, apply makeup and put on some actual clothes before my kids get up at 7:00. I would look nice dropping them off at school. I would look like a civilized lady while grabbing groceries and stopping by the dry cleaners and post office. I could put on an apron to cook and bake so I don’t ruin my nice clothes. I could wear coveralls while I paint, and then take them off to reveal my pristine outfit when it’s time to go pick-up one of my kids. I could go get my nails and hair done regularly on evenings when my husband is home, instead of spending that time with my family.

Could of…should of…would of….

But who would all that effort be for? Why put myself through that if my heart isn’t in it anymore?

Here’s my 6-year-old all dolled up for the Daddy Daughter dance, and me in a tee-shirt. I think I might be wearing mascara, but it’s hard to be sure….

When I think about it, I like to squeeze my workout in during the day so I can get that extra hour of sleep in the morning. My kids complain when they give me kisses and I have makeup on. My 4-year-old says, “Mommy! You smell like makeup! I like to kiss your real face!” My husband likes it when my hair has no product in it and he can run his hands through it, and rolls his eyes every time I get dressed up and bust out the bottle of hairspray. I actually like the way I look in jeans and a white tee. I love the way my feet stay dry and comfortable as I run around in my trusty boots. I love getting caught up in a DIY project or writing a blog post, and would rather spend every spare minute working on it than quitting early to “tidy myself up” before I leave the house. I’m a different person now. I’m a mom. It isn’t glamourous, but it’s so much better than any slew of beauty treatments you could dump on a face.

So this one’s for you, my fellow moms without manicures, go ahead and feel beautiful. Raise up that mug of coffee and make a toast to your favorite jeans! Pat yourself right on the back of your tee-shirt! Go get all the kisses on your bare face and throw a ball cap on over your air-dried hair. Because the most important little people in your life already KNOW in their souls that you are the most beautiful mommy there is, so there’s certainly no need for improvement!

Save

Save

The Plight of a Feminist Stay-At-Home Mom

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 2 Comments

There are those questions that every stay-at-home parent dreads to hear:

“What do you do all day?”

“How can you guys afford anything?”

“Don’t you go crazy just sitting at home?”

Or even better, the unsolicited advice based on nothing:

“You’ll someday regret these years you aren’t paying into retirement.”

“Your job as a parent is to provide as much financial security as possible to your family.”

“This is doing irreparable damage to your career.”

Then there’s a whole lot of the “well-meaning” comments from people who have “good intentions”:

“I could never do what you do.”

“You don’t have to do this. There are so many good childcare options these days.”

“I would be in great shape too, if I had all that extra time to go to the gym.”

“You’re so lucky that you get to watch TV and drink wine all day!”

How exactly can I explain to these people that I do what feels like, basically, everything!? How can I tell somebody that I do, in fact, sometimes feel like I’m going nuts, yet it is worth it? Why is my family’s financial situation such an anomaly to them? Why are they so worried about the future of MY career?

Aside from all of that, the fact that they think I get time to myself? Suuuure, people. I can work out at the gym for hours, then come home, sit around, drink wine and watch TV alllllll day! #livingthedream

^That is just plain hilarious. I’m always in stitches over those assholes.^

This topic is a tricky one. I cannot simply explain my decision to become a stay-at-home mom to families with two working parents. It is legitimately, damn near impossible. They either:

1. Get offended. Maybe they think that in some way talking about the hows and whys of my decision in turn means I look down on their own? I’m not sure, but it has happened more times than I can count.

-OR-

2. They look at me like I have 3 heads. I am no longer allowed to be an independent, educated feminist. How dare I not earn my own paycheck and pay my own bills!? How could I let my husband do that for me!? I am the problem! Down with domestication!

I am going to try to explain this life and why I chose it. My point here is not to offend, my point is to educate. Maybe you are one of those people above? Perhaps some of those words have come out of your mouth? If you didn’t say them to me, maybe you said them to another parent who decided to take a few years off work to focus on their kids. Maybe you decided you would crack a joke about the sad and pathetic stay-at-home moms of the world. I have heard it all, trust me. During conversation at a dinner party, there was a man who once said to me,

“If my wife wasn’t helping to contribute financially, she better be waiting for me in a sexy outfit with a cold beer every day. Cody’s a lucky man.”

I’m going to take a stab at what he assumes about stay-at-home moms like me… You assume that I barely made it out of high school and had no future. My only option was to trap the first guy with a decent salary I stumbled upon into marrying me and pop out a few kids. Now I’m just another one of the mommies who bake cookies, wear mom jeans and drive minivans full of screaming kids to the grocery store. I’m forever lumped into the “housewife” category. I’m not worth the dirt on the fancy, designer heels you bought for your own glamorous wife to wear as she clip claps into her corner office. Your wife is better than me because she chose to put her career first. (Or did she? Sounds like maybe you weighed in on that matter, sir!) I am a lost cause to the feminist movement, a failure who could have done better for myself. May God have mercy on my soul.

Well. I would answer him plain and simple: YOU. ARE. WRONG.

Turns out, like so many other stay-at-home parents, I graduated high school with honors and have a bachelor’s degree in kinesiology. I have experience training college athletes and educating patients in cardiac rehabilitation. I also have two kids. And when my oldest was born, I decided none of that was as important as she was. Plain and simple, everything else in my life could wait.

You know what won’t wait?

My kids. They are going to keep growing up. Nothing can slow that down, and I feel like if I blink I am missing something. They were only babies for two years. That’s it. Two. That is all you get, and it goes by way too fast.

I opened my eyes one day and my daughter was running around on chubby legs and asserting herself in her own little voice. She wasn’t a baby anymore, she was a toddler. Then I was dropping her off at preschool and watching her climb on the playground, and before I knew it, we had a kindergartener. This kindergartener is in cheerleading, dance, gymnastics and soccer. She is her own person. She lost all her baby fat. She has her own smell, and it’s no longer the scent of my baby. She has long blonde hair, instead of wispy baby fuzz. She chooses her own outfits, does her own homework and gets herself snacks. Next year she will be in school full-time as a first grader, and she won’t need me during the day anymore. Coming up, just as fast, behind her is my youngest. I have a couple of years left at home with my babies, and then I’ll go back to work.

A job and a big, fat paycheck will always be there. I might have to work a little harder to gain the ground that I lost. I’ll have to do some continuing education to bring myself current and stay competitive in my field. I may never climb as high as some have, but then again maybe I still will, despite this self-inflicted “career suicide”. I have well over thirty years to devote to my career at this point, so I really don’t have FOMO. Promise. I don’t waste time crying myself to sleep over the job I could have had, mainly because I have so many other productive things to do with my time right now. Oh! Which reminds me, you have been wondering what I do all day? Here’s your answer!

I do everything you pay your childcare to do. I do everything you pay your cleaning lady to do. I have never paid anybody to come into my house and do a single thing. I get it done myself, because it’s my job to get shit done. More important to me than all of that – I am the only one who raised my kids. Nobody else ever tagged in. It was all me. I kissed every single boo-boo. I wiped every single tear. I was the only one to hold them every time they were scared, hurt or sick. I read all the stories, did all the puzzles and built all the legos. I potty trained them myself. I sleep trained them myself. I taught them how to count, write and read. I know exactly what nutrition they took in, how much activity they do and how much screen time they get. I manage their schedule and know the exact amount of time they napped, and the exact time they went to bed. Me. I was in charge of it all. Nobody else. And I’m damn proud of every single part of it. Scoff at that if you want to, but it won’t change my mind. If you can be proud of a successful and productive few years at your job, then why can’t I?

Every minute of this eight total years home with my kids will be worth all the financial and career sacrifices. I feel like these years of my kids’ lives were not something I ever wanted to miss. They were only little once. I’ll never, ever look back on this time of my life and think, “Man! I wish I had put those kids in daycare and gone to work!” I couldn’t imagine trusting somebody else to do as good of a job as me. I wanted it done my way, so I did it myself.

Does all  of this mean I think working parents are wrong? Am I any better at being a mom than anybody else?

HELL NO! Each family has the freedom to choose what is best for them. They can manage their own finances, their own careers and their own children. They make choices that benefit themselves and their families in whatever ways they see fit. So let’s stop weighing in on each other’s lives, because in the end what really matters is that everybody is happy and taken care of. MY choice wasn’t YOUR choice, and that’s perfectly okay.

Feminism is about equality. Feminism is about people having freedom to choose their own life, rather than anyone else making those choices for them. I had the freedom to make my choice. I agree with that man from the dinner party – My husband is a pretty lucky guy! Cody often tells me he appreciates everything I do, even on the days (ahem…every day….) he gets home to find me with unwashed hair in a messy bun and my painting sweats on. If he wants a cold beer, he gets it for himself because he happens to be a grown-ass man who understands when his wife is busy. I wasn’t forced into this life by anyone. I consciously thought it through and decided to stay home with my kids while they are little. This doesn’t make me less of a woman than anybody else.

Now let’s all go #dowork, whatever that work may be!

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

The Modern-Day Equivalent of Obnoxious Telemarketers

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 3 Comments

I thought I would be able to avoid telemarketing by just skipping installing a landline phone. Those are becoming obsolete anyway, right?! So we have no phone in our home, only cell phones. These phones only ring when loved ones call us. No telemarketers. Sound peaceful? Well it’s not. I am currently contending with the modern-day telemarketer:

The multi-level marketing company sales reps.

Every time I open a social media app, I get attacked by reps asking if I need leggings? Body wraps? Nutrition supplements? Essential oils? Skin care? Handbags? Everyday totes? Home decor? Tupperware? The list goes on….and it’s driving me mad. It’s not as easy as it used to be. You used to be able to just hang up on a telemarketer, or ask to be put on their “do not call” list. There isn’t an escape that simple anymore, because it is your family and friends that are selling you these products. How can you turn down your loved ones?

I didn’t used to be such an angry person. I have plenty of friends and family that have been reps for various multi-level marketing companies over the years. Sure it was a little annoying, but I loved them anyway. I hosted my share of parties. I bought butt-loads of various products. Then one day it happened. I was messaged by 3 DIFFERENT sales reps to join their sales teams in a span of 36 hours. Kicker: All three of them were vague acquaintances, and all three of them were Rodan + Fields reps.

I had to politely decline buying into the same multi-level marketing company three damn times, to three different people, in basically one day. That was when I started to get a little pissed.

mlm-meme-give-money

As a stay-home-mom in her early thirties, I am a constant target. Exhibit A:

“Hi! How have you been the past 14 years since we last saw each other?! I see from your Facebook profile you are a stay-home-mom of two girls! Must be so fun!”

Ummm. Hi. Yes. It is fun. When did we become Facebook friends? I forgot you existed.

“I’m just messaging all the ladies in my life to let them know I am now a sales rep for _______! (Insert literally any of these home sales companies here. It’s all the same.) I just love this company! Their products are great and have changed my life! You need to try some of these products! You can lose all your belly fat with a magic body wrap! You can rub stuff on your feet and never get sick! You can reverse aging with just a pot of cream and look 18 again! You can make your hair grow 2 feet in 2 months taking pills made of the elixir of life!”

Wow. That all sounds fun for you. Congratulations on your new job path. Good luck! (Praying they take a hint and target their next victim.)

“Wouldn’t hosting a party be fun? You could invite all your friends! We could have wine! You won’t have to lift a finger. I can give product demos so you all can see for yourselves how well these products work. You just need to provide food and drinks for everyone you invite, and clean up after everyone leaves. You also need to convince all your friends to come. You never get to go out and party as a mom. This is the perfect excuse to have a little fun!”

Sounds great, except I have to invite all my friends under the uncomfortable guise that they eventually will have to get out their credit cards so that I can earn a free hostess gift. My friends and I see each other enough under regular, fun, no-pressure circumstances. I definitely don’t need to have a party to see them. I get invited to enough of these sales events as it is, and most of the invitations start with the hostess saying, “So I know it’s annoying, but I’m trying to help a friend out, anybody have any interest in coming over to buy leggings? Worst case scenario – I will make sure there is wine. Please come.” Sorry, but I do not want to beg my friends over here to spend a minimum of $100 a-piece so that I can earn free shit.

“You are lucky you see your friends regularly. I am so busy running my home business that I don’t get to see mine. Since you have all this time on your hands, maybe you would like to join my sales team?! You can make yourself a million dollars from your couch! You never have to waste your time going back to work and earning a decent salary in the career field that you studied hard to become a part of! Doesn’t that sound great!? We are running a one-time special if you join right now! I can sneak you an even better discount since I know you are going to be so great at this!

Probably not. I see how much time it takes up of yours. I don’t have the time to make a new Facebook status every hour about products I’m selling, let alone hit up every person I have ever met to convince them to join my sales team. If it really was that easy, why would anyone in their right mind work a regular job? Oh right! Guaranteed salary, scheduled hours, family benefits, 401K – ya know, all the useful stuff an employee of a legitimate company can negotiate into their contract. Have you managed to make a million dollars yet? Seems like if you had, you wouldn’t need to hit up your entire Facebook friends list for a paycheck.

“No problem! I totally get that your family time is important to you right now. Buuuut you can still join my sales team for the low starter kit price of $1500.00! You don’t even have to sell anything! You can keep all these products for yourself and completely change your life!”

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

Who in their right mind needs $1500.00 worth of anything!? If I’m spending $1500.00, it better be on a new fridge for my kitchen.

“If you ever change your mind, let me know!” (I WON’T.) “Maybe we can just set you up with an online party? You friends shop from the comfort of their own homes right on Facebook! It’s really fun, convenient and easy for everyone!”

Sounds perfect! I’ll add a bunch of my friends to this online event without their permission, so they can get berated with notifications about it everyday until it actually happens. Then there will only be like 14 different steps they have to complete in order to buy a pair of semi-ugly leggings and an everyday tote in a Fall print?! Ugh. Whatever. If I commit to this halfheartedly, will you leave me the fuck alone!?

I WISSSSHHHH I could say this was a one-time occurrence. Obviously, I am exaggerating for full-effect, but a form of this conversation happens to me at least a couple of times per month. I am currently invited to two Thirty-One parties and three LuLaRoe parties. My news feed is a never-ending roll of demo videos and sales posts. Every time I post a status, I wonder if I run the risk of being targeted for a potential sale. A status about being tired = A sales pitch from a rep trying to sell me liquid greens for energy. A status about an indulgent dinner = A sales pitch from somebody trying to sell me on a full-body detox cleanse. A status about one of my kids being sick = A sales pitch about how essential oils will prevent all childhood illness. A status about my workout = A sales pitch on a vitamin powder so I can get nutrients while I hydrate. Maybe I speak for only myself here, BUT JESUS CHRIST! PLEASE JUST LET ME LIVE MY LIFE IN PEACE!

My main issue with this is friends and acquaintances basically guilt-tripping people they know into buying over-priced crap under the guise of just “helping” them out. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard people say “I am just trying to make money for my family! I would love it if you could help me reach my sales goal!” It makes me twitch with annoyance every time. Do you know who also works a sales job? My husband. Since we are a single-income household, he makes all the money that supports our family. NEVER ONCE have I heard him utter those words, because every single working adult (sales job or not) is doing their best to make money and support their families.

And guess what!? That money he earns by going to his non-MLM sales job everyday? We need that money for OUR family.

Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I go out of my way to help friends and family. You need me to watch your kids? Done. Your youngest needs a ride home from school? On my way. You need me to drop off dinner because you have been sick yourself while taking care of sick kids? Consider it done. You need me to buy school clothes for your kids’ birthdays instead of toys because its been a tight year? No problem. If you need some help and support, please ask for it. Ditch the salesperson act. Be honest. I am happy to help you in any way that I can. I do my best to go above and beyond to support my friends and family, but I have to draw the line here. Enough is enough. I am not contributing any more of our hard-earned money to these multi-level marketing companies. That isn’t helping anybody out, it’s just ruining our relationships.

If I bought just one $30 item from the five parties I am added to this week, I would end up spending $150. This week. On leggings and totes THAT I DO NOT EFFING NEED OR WANT. If I bought essential oils from every single rep I know, it would cost me hundreds upon hundreds of dollars – and I don’t even believe they do anything other than smell good. I can burn a candle from Target for $3 if I want my house to smell good! If I thought I needed health supplements, I would go to a store and shop for them instead of ordering them through someone I barely know that can’t give me a full list of ingredients.  “Health” supplements are some of the most unregulated products on the market, so I absolutely am 100% refusing to drink your magic juice, and over my dead body am I letting you give a sample of that red stuff to my kids. We’ll go for a family run and eat some organic apples instead, thanks. Annnnnd sorry for the cocky honesty, but I am walking, talking proof that you do not need a body wrap to get a flat stomach. Two eight-pound babies came out of my 5’2″ frame. Lots and lots of cardio exercise gave me a flat stomach – not a magic wrap.

I am done politely declining someone 14 times in row before they move on. I am done begging friends to participate in online events and home parties. I am done accepting invitations to all said events. Don’t even send me one. Don’t check the box next to my name. Just don’t. If you do, you will be getting a hard “NO” from me. I am not wasting anymore time playing nice.

If you are actually passionately pursuing your dream job with one of these companies without hassling everyone you know, then kudos to you! I do know a few people who have become a rep, created a business page where they can be in contact with INTERESTED customers and left me the hell alone. Let me just say, I SO VERY MUCH APPRECIATE THAT! It means a lot to me that I am still your friend, and not a dollar sign on your next sales quota. More of these obnoxious reps should take a cue from you.

I wish you all the best of luck with your home businesses, and look forward to zero messages, invitations and sales pitches in my future. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a life to live.

Project Playhouse

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 2 Comments

IMG_20160513_162113 20160519_181908 20160519_145727 20160519_145634

Ever since we moved into our house, I had wanted a play set for the kids. It was high on my priority list. Like top spot. Unfortunately, part of buying an old fixer-upper house meant that there were SOOO MANYYYY other projects that ended up taking priority over the play set. So here we were this past winter, over 2 years after moving in, discussing putting a play set in the yard. Again.

Me: “If I can’t get the kids some kind of play set this year, I will just die. Literally be dead. Can we please make this happen come spring? I have waited to long!”

Cody: “If you stop talking to me about it, then yes, this spring we will figure something out.”

So anybody that knows me knows that after getting this half-hearted yes from my husband, I basically became a play set architect. I immediately hit the internet and started shopping for play sets. I looked at hundreds. Kits you order online, kits you can pick up in store, kits that get delivered pre-assembled, kits that include lumber and kits that didn’t include lumber. I became an expert on pricing out slides and attachments. I spent every single second of my spare time comparing kits and pricing out lumber options. However, after days of shopping, I was just plain old disappointed. These play set kits were:

  1. BORINGGGG. Everybody I know has the basic one in their yard. I couldn’t even think about having a typical, standard play set.
  2. WAYYY TOOOOO EXPENSIVE. So the ones that weren’t boring and standard? Yea they cost way too much money. I’m talking thousands of dollars. So F that.
  3. Came with a beam for swings, which we didn’t need! We have a HUGE tree in our yard, and the first thing I made Cody do after we moved it was figure out how to hang tree swings. They kick ass, swing super-high and make every other swing on the planet look weak.

After this brutal disappointment, I had to go back to Cody and tell him my findings. We decided there was only one way to make this happen. Some good, old-fashioned DIY! (Which we love by the way. I blame HGTV and the DIY Channel. We are such suckers for anything DIY.) So with the full go-ahead from my project foreman, I hit Pinterest like was my full-time job, searching for inspiration. I pinned and pinned on my board “Outdoor Childhood”. (If you don’t follow me on Pinterest and Instagram, then you should! It will make your life better. Cross my heart.) Then I stumbled across this pin from Bella Cupcakes Blog. It took me to a post about this magical playhouse they made for their daughter, and I was so enchanted. After a few more searches on Pinterest, I found even more playhouses that just stuck in my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about building this for the girls. I literally lay awake at night designing and decorating this playhouse in my head. It is safe to say, I became freaking obsessed with the idea of a playhouse for the girls. Any thoughts and dreams I once had of a standard play set were long gone.

POOF. Out the window.

The playhouse of my dreams (ahem, my daughter’s dreams…) was going to be built ASAP, or I was going to self-combust with creative energy that I had nowhere to channel.

I showed Cody all my pins from Pinterest, we picked a spot in the yard after HOURS of deliberations and Cody sketched out plans. We headed to the hardware store, with nothing but a hope and a wish that this thing would come together. After doing some research at the store, we came home and wrote up our plan. We guessed our supplies were going to cost somewhere in the $600-$700 range, which was music to my ears! Full steam ahead, Project Playhouse! Cody went and purchased the lumber and supplies that weekend, and we got started.

We decided on a location in the far right corner of our yard, and chose to build the playhouse in a lean-to style against an existing shed. This area was basically a corner of the yard that went unused most of the time, so having the playhouse there would tuck it out-of-the-way, without taking up any already usable space. Cody measured everything out, set some 4×4 posts in the ground and we were in deep! Too late to turn back now!20160409_144020After setting the posts, Cody built a sub-floor. Then he cut the posts so everything was level. The gray wall on the left of the picture is the wall of the existing shed.

20160416_145246The sub-floor was 6 feet wide by 10 feet long, so he put down 6′ x 8′ plywood to make the floor of the house. The 2 front feet of the sub-floor was left open because it was going to eventually become a front porch! I love the picture below, because Avery was so excited this project started. I asked her what she was doing and she said, “I’m just gonna watch Dad finish my playhouse.” (Poor kid. Due to the rainiest, coldest spring EVER, it would be 4 weeks from when this pic was taken before this thing would be finished.)

Framing up the walls….

And once the walls were framed, Cody installed plywood sheeting as the base for the roof. (Note the horseshoe pit in front of the playhouse, because it eventually, magically turns into a huge sandbox! Wait for it….wait for it….) We hung some sheets of cheap hardboard siding to make the walls of the playhouse. I helped. I got splinters. I cried. Cody tried to kill me. Just another day in DIY bliss! This was the point in the project in which people who I showed this to thought we were crazy, and maybe thought we were creating a giant eyesore in our yard. Nobody EVER trusts my visions! Have faith, people! It gets SOOO MUCH better!So now that the walls were up, it was time to cut holes for windows. And then install working windows with screens. Because screens help keep out bugs, and bugs ruin playhouse fun with their disgusting existence. So rolling his eyes through it all, Cody agreed to 3 of these 18″ x 24″ shed windows we got on sale at Menard’s for $25 each.20160417_190119They really open and close, and are just all-around perfect and awesome. The kids are obsessed with them. (I am too!) Avery was clearly very excited that day!Then it was time to build the front porch and the railing, which came out pretty cute, if I do say so myself! We used some deck boards for the porch floor that we had left over from when we built our actual deck last year. Cody made the railing out of some pressure treated 2x4s and a few deck spindles that we got at Menard’s for $0.74 each. He also installed the shingles on the roof. We used up our leftover tar paper and shingles from when we re-roofed our covered porch, so even though we had purchased these previously, the shingles cost nothing out-of-pocket for this project. I was so glad to get that random pile of shingles out of my life! Then he framed the windows and ran a few pieces of outdoor composite trim along the roof line to keep everything looking clean.
Once some trim was hung, Cody built the doors. I saw a lot of playhouses on Pinterest with cute, little, child-sized doors, but I insisted on a full-sized double-hung door. I am SO HAPPY with how it came out. The girls can open the top half and let in some light and air, but still be able to close the bottom half and play pretend to their hearts’ content. It also makes it much easier for adults to be able to access the playhouse, since the doorway is full-sized.

20160506_140404So once the structure of the outside was coming together, it was time to get the inside going. I REALLY wanted a loft on the inside. Somewhere the girls could put baby dolls to sleep, read a book, just hide out and do top-secret girl stuff. Cody agreed (YAY!) that a loft could definitely increase the cool factor, and got to work building one.

Once the platform for the loft was finished, he built a ladder out of 2×4 scraps and installed a railing along the side. Our little Emmy LOVES slides, and was desperate for us to come up with a way to give her playhouse a slide. I didn’t think it would be possible, but Cody came up with a way! Dad of the Year Award Nominee! See that hole in the back side of the playhouse from the loft? Yup. That’s a slide.

Below is the view from the back! Emmy’s very own slide getaway! We lucked out on the slide, and found it at a Habitat For Humanity ReStore for $30.00! (If you aren’t familiar with ReStore, it is a thrift store for furniture, building supplies and home furnishings. I highly suggest stopping in to your local ReStore if you are into refinishing furniture or DIY projects!) That exact slide retails at $200.00 from the big chain hardware stores. I got it brand new, in box, in perfect condition, for $30.00. I love it when thrifting pays off!So now that the construction was starting to wrap up, it was time for me to go nuts. I literally vomited every ounce of creative energy I had stored up this winter all over this project. It was glorious. Step one: paint.20160506_141831The girls and I picked out a perfect Tiffany Blue, changed into painting clothes and got to work! They were over the moon to be let loose with real paint on their real playhouse!20160506_150029I barely had to do any work! Might as well enjoy a cold one while I wait for these kids to get the job done…..20160506_173723While I got my buzz on and the kids painted, Cody was hard at work converting the old horseshoe pit into a big sandbox. Remember how I told you to wait for it?! Here it is!20160507_151929He also used the timbers from the dissembled opposite pit to make a border edge for the play area. We knew we wanted to have mulch in the play area since our shade grass doesn’t hold up to high traffic.20160507_153955We lay some pavers down in a hopscotch pattern to make a fun little path for the girls as they made their way from the slide in back to the sandbox/front porch area. 20160507_151956Cody also built a cute little door for the slide exit, which was no easy task! I was so impressed! The bottom of the door flips up so it can open/close over the top of the slide, then flips back down to keep out animals and weather. It really is pretty genius. 20160507_162122Then the whole play area got mulched. We used 10 bags of mulch total, and they were on sale for $2.00/bag at Menard’s. We also bought the pavers there for $1.00 each. So the total we spent on landscaping for this project was right about $30.00. I think it was worth every penny, and then some!20160511_191653Since I wanted the whole backyard to feel cohesive, I used the same stain we used on our deck that we built last year to stain the girls’ front porch, the doors and the landscape timbers.20160511_191713Then I carried the stain inside the playhouse on the ladder and the beam for the loft. I figured the stain would hold up to traffic on the ladder much better than paint. Fun little tidbit: At this point, I kept the girls out of the playhouse so that I could finish decorating it. We let them back in a few days later once everything was finished, so that it could be a surprise!20160518_150929They weren’t too disappointed to be kept out for a while, since they got to lend a hand in refinishing some salvaged furniture for the inside. 🙂20160518_162149I painted the ceiling with some exterior paint in bright white, and painted all the walls with some interior/exterior recycled paint (It’s called “Everybody’s Paint” – and I have to say, I was surprised by how much I loved it! Click the link if you want details.) I found it at the ReStore last year for only $10.00 a gallon. I had come across a can that was the perfect shade of warm white, so I grabbed it thinking I would definitely find something to use it on. Turns out I was right! Another thrift shop payoff! Then I got out of Cody’s way so he could put down some cheap outdoor carpets. The total cost of the carpet and the installation tape was $40.00 at Menard’s. Here is a view of the loft area.

20160518_162217To finish up the outside of the house and play area, I spray painted the hopscotch numbers on the path along the side of the house while Cody added benches to the sides of the new sandbox. Then all the trim got a fresh coat of bright white to tie in to the trim on our shed and actual house. You will get to see it below in the finished pictures!

20160514_184959The girls and I also spent a rainy day making these AWESOME signs for the playhouse out of some scrap wood leftover from the playhouse construction. Look for them in the finished pictures! They turned out so cute!

20160512_153243Once the outside was finished, I FINALLY got to pull out the bag of cheap decor the girls and I had been working on. Over the past few months, every time we visited a store we would check the clearance sections for cheap playhouse decor. We also had some good luck at dollar stores. I had built up quite a collection! I was thrilled to be able to put our bag of stuff to use! I had also decided to pull some toys from our house and turn them into playhouse toys. It was great to clear out some toy storage space.20160519_145738I painted the railing of the loft the same teal blue as the siding. We grabbed these cute frames at Ikea for $1 each. The popsicle pictures came in a pack of 5 for $6. So this decor cost me $11. Not too shabby! 20160519_144308This mini-kitchen used to be in a corner of Avery’s bedroom, but we are in the process of converting her room to be a little more “big kid”. It made perfect sense to get this out of there and install a nice kitchen into their playhouse.

20160519_151108This bookshelf was given to us free. Avery and I refinished it with some Amy Howard One Step Chalk Paint (Find it at your local Ace Hardware! It’s my favorite chalk paint for refinishing furniture!) in Graphite, and then glazed it with pale pink. It turned out super cute! All the dishes, picnic baskets and play food in the picture were also in Avery’s room with the mini-kitchen, so they moved out to the playhouse as well. I got those 3 adorable buckets on the bottom shelf at a consignment sale for 75 cents each!20160519_144338This old table was given to us for free, but was in awful shape. We tightened up all the legs with some new screws, sanded the spots where it was peeling, and then refinished it with the same process as the bookshelf. It also turned out awesome! The stools were from Ikea for $7 each. The centerpiece and little garden sign above it were each $2 at Walmart’s spring clearance. The tea set and cookie set we already had. The little teal blue placemats were part of the centerpieces at my wedding, and I was happy to find use for them in the playhouse for tea parties! The rug was a scrap Cody cut from the outdoor carpet he installed in the playhouse. I had 2 cans of spray paint (one teal and one sky blue) that I had used for other projects around the house. I used the last of them to make an ombre effect on the scrap of rug. Totally worth the effort! I love it!20160519_144259The popcorn vacuum, broom set, baby doll diaper bag, apron and chef hat also came from that little corner of Avery’s room. They all get much more use out here. Those little wooden hooks were in our baby nursery, but don’t match either of the girls rooms now. I’m glad I held onto them because they look perfect in the playhouse!20160519_144326The 3 windows have tension rods from Walmart that were $3 apiece. The curtains were originally in my kitchen. They are the Ikea LILL Lace curtains. You can get the pair for $5, and then cut them to the size of your window. I bought a fresh pair for my kitchen, and then cut the old ones to fit the girls’ windows. The pink sashes are scraps of leftover material from when I made curtains for Emmy’s bedroom windows.

20160519_145634The 3 paper lanterns were from Deals for $1 each. I just hung them from the same hook at different heights for a chandelier effect. The butterfly and dragonfly above the windows were each from Walmart’s spring clearance for $4 each. The little doll bassinet was from a garage sale for $5. The mini rocking chair was from ReStore for $10. I originally planned on refinishing it, but the teal seat and dark wood already matched the playhouse perfectly. All I did was dust it off and plop it in a corner!20160519_145655The loft area got a little fairy wall sticker from Deals for $1. The blankets are just a few old ones from the house. The girls use them to make doll beds or put them in the grass in the yard for pretend picnics. The 2 flower pillows were from Walmart’s patio section for $5 each. The White Sox pillow we already had inside, but we needed to represent Chicago’s south side in our playhouse somehow, so it is proudly displayed out there now. Go Go White Sox! 😉20160519_145727Once we finished the inside of the playhouse, we let the girls loose to take it all in! They were over the moon! Emmy said, “MOMMA! This is making me so happy! SOOO HAPPY!” I would definitely call it a success!20160519_202124 20160519_181925Last but not least, I let the girls add the finishing touches we picked out for the outside. We hung the “Run Wild My Child” sign we made on the back wall, and found a good spot for the windmills ($7 each on sale at Menard’s) and pink flamingos (Set of 2 for $7 on sale at Menard’s) that girls picked out to spruce up the back of the playhouse. 20160519_181908 IMG_20160513_162113The front was finished up with the “PLAYHOUSE” sign we made, 2 FARGGLAD chairs from Ikea for $15 each and a little terracotta planter pot we already had with a sweet potato vine.

The total cost of this project came in at just under $800.00. That includes everything – building and landscaping materials, paint, furniture, decor, etc. I am thrilled about it, because not only is it perfectly custom and adorable, but it is HALF of what we would have spent ordering a play set kit! We did luck out in having some supplies on hand from other projects, but that is part of what makes every DIY project so awesome!

Now if this ain’t the playhouse of every kid’s (and parent’s!) dreams, I don’t know what is! Good times ahead for us this summer! 🙂

20160519_14563420160519_145727IMG_20160513_16211320160519_181908

Happily Ever After

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ Leave a comment

I have two daughters to raise. May the good Lord help me through this.

Here is the thing that is currently bugging the heck out of me while raising these two girls:

They both can’t wait to be “The Bride” at their weddings. (BARF!)

Cody and Kaitlyn 018
Look at my flower girls! The cutest in the land!

I blame myself for this. I actually walked in front of them as “The Bride” last year to marry their dad. They re-enact my own wedding every time we visit the park where I myself was once a bride. They play dress up, and fight over the white dress because they both want to be “The Bride.” They love any story involving a girl marrying a prince. They look at our wedding pictures at least once a week and coo, “Oh Mommy! You were beautiful in your dress!” They play wedding with their Barbies. (Ken really makes out in this wedding business. He has married Barbie and all her friends at least three times each. What a creepy bastard.) The words, “There is the bride! Doesn’t she look so beautiful?” have come out of my own mouth at every wedding we have ever attended. I am the one who is allowing, perhaps even encouraging, their perceptions of womanhood become skewed.

I admit there is something alluring about being “The Bride” to these little princess minds. Your prince charming (Or the man you end up settling for, depending how you look at it.) gets down on one knee in the middle of a crowded room and presents you with a diamond ring. You say yes, and people you don’t even know cheer and congratulate your life-long future happiness. Friends and family toast you and the groom at every engagement party, bridal shower, bachelor party, bachelorette party and rehearsal dinner from proposal to wedding. The entire guest list has to hear (multiple times) your love story of “how we found each other online” or “how we met in a bar in college.” You get to wear a dreamy dress while everybody looks at you with tears in their eyes and says, “Doesn’t she look soooo beautiful?”

You get to be the center of attention for an entire day. People watch you talk, eat, dance and drink like you are a celebrity. Not to mention the paparazzi-like photographers you paid thousands of dollars to follow you around and make you look damn near flawless in every picture. Once these pictures are in your hands, you will flood social media with them. Because everybody who wasn’t invited still needs to see how good you looked and how “in love” you are. Relatives gather from across the country for this event in your life, and probably won’t gather like that again until your funeral. IT IS THE HAPPIEST DAMN DAY OF YOUR LIFE. Every person you encounter will repeat it to you so many times it practically becomes your mantra.

Why are weddings so celebrated? Aren’t there other things in a girl’s life that are SO MUCH MORE worthy of celebration? Why are we so focused on finding a man and marrying him? And God forbid it if we dare dream otherwise!

I don’t want to crush my daughters’ childhood dreams, so I let the wedding play happen while I cringe inside. I don’t want to screw up their innocent views on the world. Every fairy tale they have ever heard ends with “they lived happily ever after.” At the end of the story, all princesses marry their prince. Why would the ending be any different for them?

Sadly, I know plenty of beautiful, talented, accomplished women who are living their lives thinking less of themselves, just because they are approaching their thirties without a serious boyfriend. Why does so much of our self-worth end up being attached to finding a guy to marry? Why can’t we still live happily ever after, while filing single on our tax return?

I have girlfriends who have put themselves through law school, but receive constant pressure from people to, “Just go out and find a nice guy so you can settle down.” Does nobody realize the sacrifices and hard work that go in to graduating with a law degree?! Not to mention the ladders they now will have to climb to make a name for themselves in that crazy, competitive world of law careers?! Shouldn’t ALL THAT be celebrated so much more than snagging a guy off Tinder and getting him to propose?!

I have friends in happy, committed relationships who have chosen (for their own, personal reasons!) not to marry or have kids. Yet it never fails, people still can’t help but comment, “Someday she will decide to get serious.” Apparently, their relationship can’t be taken seriously until they get on board with traditional society. We can’t all just appreciate a healthy, supportive and loving relationship unless it comes with a marriage certificate and baby carriage.

I want to stop teaching my little girls to aspire to marriage. I want to encourage my girls to become their own person, make their own educated choices and live their life how they choose. I will not allow society’s rules to cloud their own vision of what their life should be. If they are confident enough in themselves to walk off the beaten path, then I have succeeded. I have helped them to grow into the brave individuals who went out into the world and achieved their own dreams outside of what other people thought would be best for them.

So here is a crazy idea: Let’s look at marriage as a choice, rather than a necessity. Women can live happily ever after, with or without marriage vows. They can hold down jobs, buy houses and cars, and even raise children with or without a partner by their side. And maybe…Just maybe…they can be just as celebrated in these successes.

Let’s make the happiest days of our daughters’ lives the days they graduate high school, college and graduate school. Let’s celebrate them as they dance and sing on Broadway, create thought-provoking art and sell their first painting. Let’s celebrate the days they win the state tournament, get offered a scholarship and earn a starting spot on their sport’s team. Let’s celebrate the days they land their dream job, receive an awesome promotion and turn the key in the door of their first house. Let’s celebrate the day they become a parent, regardless of how that child was brought into their lives. Let’s celebrate when they find a person to love and walk through life with. If they decide to get married to that person along the way, then of course, we can celebrate that too.

But I absolutely refuse to discredit the rest of their life achievements based on their relationship status.

If we do this for our daughters, maybe they can show us how to find the real happily ever after.

Cody and Kaitlyn 380
And we lived happily ever after….with a marriage certificate AND two lifetimes of personal achievements behind and still ahead of us!

Eleven Things Only Type A People (And Those That Love Them) Understand

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 1 Comment

During a recent, heated conversation with my husband, I got slightly wound-up. It is totally standard for him to be cool as a cucumber while I flip out. I always tell myself I am going to stay calm, but it never really happens. He turned around, with an amused smile on his face and goes, “So, you know how hard it is to love you sometimes, right? Kait, just calm down.”

Calm down!? CALM DOWN?! If there is one phrase that will instantly make it impossible to “calm down”, that is probably it! However, I started laughing right along with him. I actually had to sit down on the floor with tears in my eyes from uncontrollable laughing. Because I know he loves me no matter what, plus, I am super-annoying and high-strung. And he is totally right. (Hey, sometimes you just need to laugh at yourself to get a new perspective.)

Competitive people can’t help it. I annoy myself right along with everyone else, if we are being honest. I want to just turn off the constant list of potential failures running through my head. I wish I could comfortably go to bed and fall asleep after coming in second place, but instead I will lay awake and analyze every move I made that landed me behind somebody else. I check off those boxes of various failures, agonizing over each one, vowing to never allow that to happen again.  I will fall asleep eventually, promising myself to be the best next time. Then I wake up the next day and begin holding myself to that promise. It is exhausting.

Welcome to my type A life. #thestruggleisreal

I have matured to realize that some people just hate my confrontational nature. I think my personality is misunderstood. I am not trying to knock anybody else down, I am just trying to muscle my own way up. I get that this rubs people the wrong way, but I’m not changing anytime soon. I can’t sit back and let things play out. I can’t let go of the reins. It is too difficult for me to watch a train wreck unfold before my eyes, knowing that a little bit of effort on my part might have changed the outcome. I so badly want to be a super-cool, laid-back, type B who doesn’t give a crap – but it’s never going to happen. I am too much of a control freak, and I am waaayyy too competitive.

So without further ado, let’s get to the bottom of why us type As are just so hard to love:

 

Eleven Things Only Type A People

(And Those that Love Them) Understand

1. You have to win. At everything. EVERYTHING.

GPS time of arrival? Nope. That’s time to beat.

Fitbit’s Daily Showdown? A.k.a. I run on the treadmill until I am in first place, or die trying.

Fantasy football? If Freeman isn’t cleared on that concussion for another week, I will personally take down the entire Atlanta Falcons organization.

Mini golf? I NEED to get a hole-in-one, just so I can tell you to suck it.

Bake sale? My brownies better disappear like lightning. Please, God, let people buy all my brownies!

Foot race? Don’t make me laugh. Enjoy the taste of dust.

I could go on, but I am sure you get the point. Daily life is a contest, and losing is failure.

2. You cannot rest until your daily to-do list is checked off.

Husband: Why don’t you stop folding laundry and relax?

Me: Because I need to finish it.

Husband: Why can’t you finish it tomorrow?

Me: Because it is on TODAY’S to-do list, idiot.

Husband: Now that you are done folding laundry, why don’t you stop pacing the room and watch this show with me?

Me: I only need 628 more steps to overtake Tiffany R. in the Workweek Hustle! I am too close to victory to sit! (See item 1.)

Husband: You need help.

3. Throwing parties consumes your life.

My youngest is turning 4 in July = CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!

I will not rest until our backyard is transformed into an ice palace, the cake is a perfect depiction of Olaf, all the guests have become real-life replicas of Elsa and childhood dreams have come true.

4. Same goes for any holiday, really.

Christmas spirit, Pinterest valentines, Easter magic, leprechaun mischief, Halloween overkill…..When it’s holiday game time, you GO BIG OR GO HOME!

5. Home renovations = convincing yourself your home will someday be featured on HGTV.

My poor husband actually thought our bathroom reno was finished. I whipped my head around at this statement in disbelief! (Is he even looking at this unfinished room?! The walls are bare!) Then I informed him he would be installing crown molding and assisting me while I agonized over where to hang which pieces of wall decor….for 3 straight days….until I snap:

Me: Get the kids ready, we have to go back to HomeGoods IMMEDIATELY. NOBODY can enter this house until this room clicks, because it simply cannot be seen like this!

Husband: You still need help.

6. You count your calories, and hate yourself for it.

Well crap. That glass of wine just put me over my caloric budget today. Looks like I am now faced with the choice of burning extra calories at 9:30 pm, or going to bed with a belly full of wine and extra helpings of self-loathing. Decisions, decisions….

7. A trip the gym is actually your own personal Olympics.

When your body combat instructor tells you to bring it up to level 3, you actually do it. Even though you think one of your arms fell off 10 minutes ago. Then you start walking for your treadmill cool down, but somebody hops on the treadmill next to you and starts running. Naturally, now you have to crank it back up and run another mile too. You have no other choice! You can’t look weak in front of your fellow fitness peers! That’s a gold medal, ladies and gents! Only the strong win the gold! (Again, see item 1.)

8. When people ask you to sign up for a “run/walk 5k”, you simply cannot.

Ummm….So it’s a race? But you don’t try to beat your best time? You let people pass you? Some people just walk?…..I’m confused. (Again, see item 1.)

9. Casual debates become a matter of life and death.

If you come at me trying to change my mind on an issue, I will unleash a rapid-fire rebuttal that probably contains statistical data and fact citations. If I care enough to research said issue in the first place, I also care enough to make sure I can support my stance when it is questioned. Just remember not to take it personally. It isn’t about other people being wrong, but entirely about me being right. (Again, see item 1.)

10. If company is coming over, your home must be perfection.

Click the video below to watch how I freak out every single time we host company.

“There cannot be any sign of LIVING in this house!”

So funny. So accurate. Borderline sad.

11. Your kids are on a schedule, and you LOVE it.

Every time someone comments how annoying your strict household schedule is, you laugh in their face as your kids go right to sleep at their assigned bedtime annnnd don’t wake up until the next morning. Yup. I just threw a *tiny* bit of shade. Couldn’t help it. Schedules are where it’s at!

(12. You are slightly annoyed that this is a list of eleven, instead of a nice, round number like ten. Apologies.)

 

So there you have it! My whole long list of competitive crazy. I get that I drive you nuts. I might even insult you on occasion. (It’s called tough love, my dears.) All of us control freaks know you would like us to calm the heck down, but we probably won’t be relaxing anytime soon!

Just know that if you are lucky enough to love one of us type A’s, we are going to pave the way for you (through some micromanagement) and cheer for you (as long as you’re doing it the way we instructed you) just as much as we annoy you! It’s not nagging, it’s actually encouragement – just with swear words and deadlines. 😉

Mommy-To-Be Knows Best

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ Leave a comment

I have reached a phase of life in which I currently know more pregnant women than non-pregnant women. I’m serious. Something is in the water, and EVERYONE is expecting.

pregnant meme

I was pregnant with my oldest daughter 6 years ago, so talking to most of my single, 24-year-old friends about pregnancy meant I might as well have been speaking French. I love those ladies, but telling them about childbirth was almost hilarious. They could not wrap their heads around everything my body did to bring my first-born into the world. These same women who avoided pregnant me like the plague a few years ago have gotten knocked up. Ironically, they have also become experts on all aspects of parenting over the course of their first trimester.

Listen up, mommies-to-be! Recently, a few in your ranks have felt the need to express their opinions on what they deemed right and wrong in regard to how some of us are currently parenting our living, breathing children. Let me just take a moment to say, in the kindest way possible, that you don’t know shit.

You can read all the books in the world during pregnancy, but absolutely NOTHING prepares you for what is to come. I am not trying to scare you, I am just trying to help you understand that you are wasting your time and energy focusing on everything that doesn’t matter. What matters is that everybody is healthy and happy. Sometimes making decisions based on what is perceived to be the best for mom and baby, before you even give birth, is setting yourself up for some cruel disappointment and misery. Not to mention, the way you pass judgement (Based on what exactly? An article somebody shared on Facebook?) may be offending or hurting some other moms.

Congratulations, mommies-to-be! You are embarking on a magical journey of self discovery and growing a teeny tiny human! Time to start glowing and embracing that bump! Now let’s prep you for cold, hard reality with a little pop quiz, covering some of the topics that are most frequently going to piss you off as you head into parenthood.

1. Are you married?

No: Suit up! Because the wrath of the Christians and Catholics will fall upon you, sinner. To hell with you and your demon seed! (Bonus point if you eventually get around to getting married so your parents and grandparents can sleep at night.)

Yes: You win this one, according to most of society. Plus you still have a shot at making it into Heaven after you croak, ya lucky duck! (Bonus point for being smart enough to look gorgeous in a wedding dress before pregnancy destroys you.)

2. Are you planning to have a natural childbirth?

No: You know your limits. Good for you!

Yes: Good luck. I also thought I wanted a natural childbirth, until I got a taste of active labor. I have two carefully chosen words for you: F**K THAT.

*Bonus point for realizing it doesn’t matter how you plan your delivery, because there is absolutely no way to predict how that train wreck is going to go down. Just try not to be terrified by your own body.

3. Are you going back to work after you have the baby?

No: Hope you have a skin thick enough to deflect all the demeaning comments about lazy stay-at-home moms, because we basically do nothing all day. The household pretty much runs itself, so we can pursue all kinds of leisurely hobbies. It doesn’t matter if you leave a career in neurosurgery behind you, everyone assumes you are a gold digger who popped out a kid so you don’t have to work. Now you can drink wine, do nothing and get your nails done like the rest of us stay-at-home mom slackers! Congrats on taking your life nowhere!

Yes: You don’t win either. The good old “women stayed home to raise their families in my day” guilt trips are just the tip of the iceberg for you. People are going to weigh in on your childcare options – “Ugh. She sent her kids to daycare. THE HORROR.” – And no matter what you choose, someone won’t like it. If you are lucky enough to have a relative watching the kids for you, there is now an awkward household dynamic of “Grandma knows best” VS. “Mommy knows best”. So good luck sorting through all that while trying to break through the glass ceiling.

4. Are you planning to breastfeed?

No: Oh man. I wish you well, because people are going to hate you for this. You might hear the phrase “breast is best” more than you hear your own name. Avoid all mommy and me classes, because you and your formula fed monster are going to be shunned from them anyway. How dare you make the selfish choice to feed your baby that liquid poison?! No bonus points awarded for a valid medical excuse, because nobody wants to hear about that anyway. What matters to the world is that you aren’t feeding your baby the magic elixir known as breast milk, you sad excuse for a mother.

Yes: You win everything. You are going to have prettier, smarter, more athletic children. They are going to grow up to be world champions, and you can go ahead and pat yourself on the back someday, knowing it was your breast milk that got them there. They will have such a head start thanks to your maternal sacrifice. Until you actually have the baby and start breastfeeding. And find out it hurts – Hurts really bad. Then your nipples start to bleed, and the baby screams for hours on end because it takes 5 DAMN DAYS for your milk to actually come in. Your milk supply might increase, eventually. Your body will *probably* make enough milk. Breastfeed for life!

So did you pass the quiz with flying colors? Fail miserably? Who knows, right?

Because the truth is, you just don’t know until you actually give birth to that tiny human. You can read all the crap pregnancy and parenting books you want, and judge the way all of us moms are currently doing things. You can watch me discipline my 3-year-old and make a vow to never handle a situation with your own child in public like I did. You can watch me feed my kids a happy meal for dinner and secretly promise your unborn child that its sacred digestive system will never know the horrors of a chicken nugget. You can sneer at the thought of me throwing in the breastfeeding towel and switching to formula, while you pat your growing stomach and tell your baby that you would never give up like I gave up. That’s perfectly fine with me, because I know you are going to eat all those words someday.

I, like you, had a birth plan, breastfeeding plan and overall understanding that I was going to be the best parent ever. I already knew exactly what was going to happen because I researched everything. Funny thing about pregnancy, delivery and newborn babies: YOU MIGHT AS WELL TOSS ALL OF YOUR PERFECT PLANS RIGHT OUT THE WINDOW. That kid comes screeching into the world, and turns it upside down. You better just be ready to survive.

I hope you get everything you want out of your pregnancies, deliveries and newborn days. I hope all your well-laid plans unfold like you dream they will. I hope you really are the best mom ever, and I can someday learn from you. However, I need you all to know that if you abandon one of your strictly laid plans, I know it’s because you are surviving. If you aren’t always the best mom ever, I know it’s because you are human. If pregnancy and delivery wasn’t rainbows and roses, I know it’s because you were misled into thinking they would be. The reality of childbirth is unpredictable and messy, leaving you with a transitioning body and tiny newborn that are both even more unpredictable and messy. I’ll be the one to understand that and support you, because I lived through that. Twice.

So my lovely, glowing mommies-to-be, don’t judge us moms too harshly and be careful with your words. We are the ones who will be here to support you on the other side of this journey you’re on. Everybody wants the absolute best for their children, but it is impossible to know what is best until faced with reality. None of us truly know what the hell we are doing in this crazy world of parenting, but I bet all our kids (maybe even my formula fed ones) are going to turn out just fine.

emmybottlelove
My little Emmy enjoying her bottle.

If you liked this post, you will also love reading “The Perfect Mom Quest”.

Throw Out Your Resolutions!

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ 1 Comment

I hesitated for a couple of weeks to publish this post, mainly because I didn’t want to offend anybody. About 75% of the people I know made resolutions, and suuuure went to town about it on social media! The mere suggestion of me not making resolutions is bound to rub someone the wrong way.

The funny thing is – the more people who read my blog, the more feedback I get. Putting your thoughts into words and sending them into the blogosphere also means having a thick enough skin to not panic over negative feedback. I get responses via email, mostly good, on almost every post I have written. As it turns out, I end up offending at least one person with every click of the publish button! #sorrynotsorry

Read on, my dears, at your own risk of taking every word I type personally.

Just a few short weeks ago, I witnessed KATRILLIONS of social media posts about all of your new year’s resolutions. If you didn’t make a resolution then you were picking out your theme words for 2016, declaring your fitness goals or making a vow to change everything about yourself. Now comes the part where you might get offended – Basically, all I saw was a bunch of stuff revolving around how much you sucked at life in 2015, and how much you are not going to suck at life in 2016. I rolled my eyes at all of it and said, “Yea, OK people. I’ll believe it when I see it.” Yep. I did that to all of you. Behind all your backs. I can’t help it, because I was just born to be cynical and honest.

Here we are, halfway through January. All those motivating posts have been trickling down to zero. I see the same old whiny crap about how much it sucks to be sick with a cold, how much it sucks when your kids are sick with a cold, how much it sucks that you have to drive your kids to school/practice/play dates/whatever in the cold, how much it sucks when school is cancelled, how much it sucks when it is too cold to breathe outside, how you have no time for yourself, how grocery shopping is the worst, how just living your day-to-day life is so damn terrible that you have to put that negativity out into the universe for all to see and sympathize with you. Well, here’s a fact: I don’t sympathize with you, and if you think I am talking to you, personally, I am not. I am talking to everyone with a smart phone, tablet or computer. (Including myself!)

We all need to just stop it.

Stop setting ourselves up for failure. Stop setting ourselves up for disappointment. I guarantee you, next January everyone will post about how glad they are to say goodbye to 2016 and how awesome life will be in 2017.

(Wait. Wasn’t 2016 supposed to be your best year ever? Remember how you were going to lose 50 lbs, redecorate your entire house and reconnect with every friend you ever lost? None of that happened??? How shocking!)

I personally don’t believe in resolutions, theme words, unattainable fitness goals, ridiculous diet restrictions or anything of the like. You can try to call BS on me, but I can assure you I have not made one post on social media about my goals for the new year for quite some time now. I think it is all a big crock of you-know-what.

I have read a lot of articles and posts that are getting passed around recommending that I just say “no” to loved ones to free up my schedule, use this newfound free time to work on myself, choose my resolutions and pick out a word to develop the theme of my year around. Half the people I know are currently on some kind of obnoxious fad diet or spending hundreds of dollars on magical weight-loss shakes, cleanses, pills and God knows what else.They don’t shut up about it. January is literally the month of gym and protein shake selfies. There is a lot of pressure to get on board with all this hoopla. To make myself into a better me.

Why are we required to knock ourselves down and beat ourselves up when we reflect on our past year? Why do we need to make ourselves “better”? Instead of wallowing in self-pity and trying to come up with ways to make myself better, I would prefer to just virtually high-five everybody and keep on keepin’ on. What is wrong with saying, “I did my darn best to kick butt. I am going to continue to kick some butt. If I do anything different in 2016, it is to kick even more butts than I did in 2015!”?

I think I already accomplish great things in my daily life. I don’t believe that choosing a theme word and metaphorically applying it to my day is going to help me improve myself. If anything, for me it will be a waste of energy and time. I know some people swear by this every year, and if it helps motivate you, then keep doing it! I just fail to see how it would be helpful to me, since I’m not really a let’s-analyze-this-life-choice-from-all-angles-and-make-sure-I-am-living-within-my-chosen-theme kinda person. I usually just jump into situations with hope that things turn out alright. *Usually* they do, so I am going to stick with that plan. I prefer doing to thinking. I might be a cave woman.

I don’t believe I need to make a resolution to lose a ton of weight or achieve physical perfection. I know I am healthy, and we already live pretty a healthy lifestyle in my household. My body is 30 years old and has brought 2 children into the world. It is obviously NEVER going to look the way it did 10 years ago. I have (begrudgingly) accepted that, and refuse to waste money on supplements or fad diets with false hope that I will look like a Vicky Secret model. (We all know it ain’t gonna happen. I am 5′ 2″ with stretch marks and A-cup boobs. There is not a shake, cream or pill in the world that can help me.) I might as well just keep taking care of myself by continuing to eat right, work out regularly and appreciate the healthy body I have!

I love giving to others, and I am going to continue to say “yes” to my loved ones. I will probably never say “no” just to say “no”. It does not make me feel good to say “no”. One of the best things my mom ever taught me is that you can give in different ways. You can give of your time, talents or treasure. We don’t have a lot of treasure. The treasure we do have pays bills and buys groceries. I will always be happy to give my time and my talents to those who need them, appreciate them and deserve them. I know most of the people I say “yes” to will also say “yes” and give their time, talents or treasure to me when I need them most. Despite saying a lot of “yes”, I can still manage to carve out pieces of time for myself when needed. (Newsflash to naysayers: This is thanks to time management, not being a selfish jerk who says “no”  to everything just because I can.)

I’ll keep saying “yes”. I’ll keep kicking butt. And most importantly, I’ll skip the BS. I don’t have resolutions or a resounding vocab word. I don’t have a checklist of unattainable goals. I just have the desire to keep trying to be the best mom, wife, friend and person I know how to be. I am going to continue to give 100% of myself to my life, which includes saying “yes” to all the people in it.

In a nutshell, I am not going to change myself. I am not going to list all things I could be better at. I am going to keep being positive and kicking butt this year. I think you should throw out your lists of goals, resolutions and words, and just come kick some butt with me!

Seriously though. BodyCombat® is on Tuesdays. Meet me at the gym and we can roundhouse kick 2016 right in the face.

(I totally feel the same way as Matt Bellassai, but he just uses a lot more profanity! Watch and giggle here, because, “Nobody needs a newer you.” Hehe!)

KonMari: The Fuel to Feed Your Organization Monster

~ Kaitlyn @ Doing Dishes Making Wishes ~ Leave a comment

I recently read “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing” by Marie Kondo.

As a friend put it, “Uh oh. Was it food to fuel your inner organization monster?”

The answer is YES. And it was so awesome. I don’t know if there are many things that can top the wonderful feeling of throwing out your own belongings. I get high as a kite off of each perfectly organized closet. Every time I open my dresser drawers I feel a surge of happiness. The KonMari way is magic, I tell you! In case you have been living under a rock and don’t know what I’m talking about, here are some links to catch you up:

All caught up? Good. Now order a copy of this book and come along with me on this journey of eliminating beautiful garbage from your family’s life!

So it all started when one of my girlfriends sent me a seemingly innocent text. It went something like, “OMG. You will love this organizing book. I just bought it, and I think I’m going to try it.” So of course, like any good ‘murican consumer, I purchased it on my Kindle immediately. I did this for 3 main reasons:

1. I am not one to pass up recommended reading. I love to read. Period.

2. After I googled it, I realized it was fast becoming a pop culture “thing”, and I just love having a good pop culture thing to talk about.

3. Because Amazon just makes it that easy. I love Amazon.

It sat on my Kindle for a while. Then I got around to actually reading it. I read a few paragraphs and got instantly annoyed. I have a *slightly* competitive nature. I need to feel like I am the champion of my own life, and kind of hate when someone suggests that I *may* be operating on a flawed system. Therefore, I have serious issues with self-help books, or basically people telling me what to do in general.

This book was no exception.

Let me just say, I had what I would have called an organized house. I regularly (at least twice a year) would donate and/or throw out unused or forgotten items. I firmly believed (Still do!) every item in your home should have a “home” – and most of the things we owned did! I never cleaned up my house by dumping stuff in bins to “sort later” – including toys. Each toy was stored in organized bins and shelves, with all their parts and pieces. Blankets and towels were folded a specific way. My throw pillows would be lined up in their assigned order on the beds and couches.

(Side note about my love for decorative pillows: When we moved in and I decorated, I spent hours rearranging pillows into every possible combination on every bed and couch. Once I found the combination of pillows that looked best, that piece of furniture was assigned its forever-toss-pillow-order. The entire room benefits from a well-assigned toss pillow. Why my husband cannot remember the pillow order assignment IS BEYOND ME. My 5-year-old knows how the pillows go, but he is a grown man and can’t remember?! So his solution is to just throw them on the furniture all pell-mell, annnnnd it annoys the HELL outta me. So now you know that. You’re welcome.)

When I straightened a room, items would go back to their strictly assigned home, and the balance of my world was restored. You didn’t look around my house and see clutter. I was doing just fine. This Marie Kondo chick is going to try tell me that my house is a hot mess? I wanted to invite her to dinner, show her my house and say, “SEE?! I’m doing just fine, thank you very much. Now get out.”

True story.

However, my competitive nature ALSO makes it damn near impossible for me to quit anything, including books I hate. I will see those suckers through to the last page, hate every minute of it and then yell at anyone who will listen how terrible that book was. (Many can vouch for this, since most people who know me were innocent victims of my “Fifty Shades of Grey” and “Twilight” warpaths. I still can’t stand hearing women swoon over that pointless, awful crap.) So I forged ahead, determined to hate this Marie Kondo and all her opinions. I swear I almost lost it when she disclosed her dislike of sweatpants. Yup. She really does hate sweatpants. Maybe she isn’t human. She says, and I quote, “If sweatpantsyogapant are your everyday attire, you’ll end up looking like you belong in them, which is not very attractive. What you wear in the house does impact your self-image.”

Biiiitch, please. I shower, put on a clean pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, go to sleep and WAKE UP DRESSED. If you can’t see the beauty in that, then keep your organizing arts and opinions on the other side of the Pacific.

Despite my being determined to finish this book and then mock the crap out of it, Marie Kondo won me over. Little by little. I found myself imagining what my own dresser drawers could look like, trying to remember the last time I actually checked what was beyond the mass of coats in the front closet and wondering how much stuff was hiding in all the deep crevices of all bedroom closets. I couldn’t help thinking about the boxes in the shed that weren’t important enough to unpack when we moved into our house 2 years ago, but were still sitting out there with who-knows-what inside. While cooking dinner, I suddenly realized my kitchen utensil drawer had become kitchen utensil DRAWERS. As in 2 full drawers of kitchen utensils. Not to mention, the specific utensil I was looking for was missing. I had 4 pizza cutters. Who needs 4 pizza cutters?! Not someone who can’t even find a spatula.

Those drawers became the most annoying thing.

I negotiated in my mind that it is not admitting defeat to spot a flaw in my system. I can rearrange 2 drawers. No problem. Then I’ll just take a nonchalant tour of the house and assess our belongings. I’ll investigate some closet corners. I’ll be the one who decides if I need to embark on the KonMari journey. It will probably be fine. Then I can tell everyone that this book is a sham, and that I am still the master of my organizational domain.

27557098

Holy crap.

Literally. Crap. It suddenly surrounded me. The garage, shed, rooms, closets, cabinets, drawers = FULL OF CRAP.

Marie Kondo won.

I was defeated, and so it began. The clean-out to end all clean-outs. Stay tuned! 🙂

***A previous version of this post referred to Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. In order to avoid confusion, this post has been updated to reflect that wanting to be organized and tidy does transfer to a medically diagnosed condition. Apologies to anybody that was previously offended by the misrepresentation of OCD.***