Over the years I have slowly morphed into one of those women. The kind I used to puzzle over and occasionally think “whoa lady… you clearly need more hobbies, more kids, or something!” Ordinary, average Mom in appearance, but clearly having some abnormal DNA. She likes to organize closets. Gets out the Labelmaker with delight. Cleans house on days when company isn’t even expected. Knows where the stapler is and doesn’t have to move sofa cushions to get to the fingernail clippers.
I don’t know how or why I’ve changed but I have a few theories…
1. Living in a smaller house with limited storage has forced the habit upon me.
2. I have always had this tendency but was too exhausted during those blurry toddler years to realize it.
3. I have too much time on my hands (doubtful).
4. The testosterone of three sons and a husband has driven me to madness and I am just grabbing order and peace wherever I can. (my favorite!)
But “it is what it is” and I am glad for the growth. An organized space just brings me joy. the feeling of everything in its place. of taking chaos and bringing about order. of the joy in serving my family.
All that to explain how last night I got a burst of inspiration (or madness, you decide) John was playing tennis late, the boys were watching National Treasure and I tackled the REFRIGERATOR. The appliance I dread! Over the last 2 decades my routine is this:
wipe down shelves if something is sticky. clean when MOVING OUT.
But last night I took it all apart, scrubbed edges with a toothbrush, and washed all the shelves in soapy bleach water. Lined all the drawers and shelves with fresh folded paper towels to catch the inevitable spills. Threw out old condiments and wondered if we NEED 7 very different varieties of mustard. (love it but parted with ONE-see, the self discipline here?! haha) Put all the small items on a lazy susan. Discovered that the milk jug fits in the door (after 3 years of shuffling milk around, trying to make space after EVERY shopping trip) and BEST OF ALL, labeled all the shelves. A designated “leftovers” shelf. (no more “oh honey, where’s that potato stuff you made the other night?”from John!) Salad dressings all together, pop and eggs and butter all in their designated areas. When the boys clear the table after dinner this ought to, in theory, help. We’ll see.
All I know is that when I opened the door for my coffee cream this morning…I smiled as big as Texas. For today, chaos is conquered!