Monday, January 29, 2007

feast and famine

I am setting bad examples for my children (isn't that really the point of being a bad mom though?) and I can't help myself. I am an all or nothing kind of gal, I've discovered. We're having dinner at a new trendy restaurant? Yes, we must have an appetizer, salad, main course, dessert and cocktails to make the experience complete. Going to the movies after this delicious multi-course meal? Of course I would like some popcorn with buttery flavoring, please. That is an essential part of the cinematic experience! (I have actually pouted through part of a perfectly good movie because I had no money for the buttery popcorn). Painting our room? Let's go ahead and change bedding, lampshades, shelves - and you know, the shower curtain doesn't look quite right anymore...It's a madness, I tell you.

Around the house, where my kids are really paying attention (remind me to tell you the very funny story about putting Mason's door through his wall after a particularly nasty [and remarkably pointed] comment about my housekeeping), I am alternately FlyLady Junior Achiever and "Animal House" pledge of the week. Either every garment anyone owns is washed, folded, and neatly stashed at any given moment, or no one can enter a bedroom without being assaulted by piles of reeking laundry. We have an immaculate show kitchen, complete with beaming Cooking Mom in apron, or there is a small dim area cluttered with unwashed pans and euphoric flies park-hopping between GarbageCanLand and Countertop Adventure. There is no grey area, unless you count the gelatinous blob that was once lentil soup.

There is no point to this entry except to warn people who might come into contact with me because I cannot, alas, be changed. If it's feast day, beware; you and the space around you may be unwittingly tidied and organized. Famine day? Sit back and relish the sloth. Deadly sin, whatever.