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Thursday, January 29, 2015

Getting Organized And...Mortified

So I fell off the face of the earth. Again. But there was the getting ready for Christmas business and strep throat decided to pop back into my life (after 20-something years) the weekend before Christmas, bringing with it glass shards each time I swallowed and a fever of a hundred and three. Then, not quite recovered from that, I got sick again (the weekend after Christmas) and stayed that way for what seemed like a sweet FOREVER. Then, THEN, just as I was getting back to some sense of normalcy, Dracen got sick. And when Dracen gets sick, I hear Mommm approximately sixteen thousand times a day. 

Also, I've jumped on the I-will-declutter-and-organize-this-entire-house-if-it-kills-me train over the past couple of weeks and the exhaustion sets in about 4pm every afternoon. I blame it on this book.

It is written by a young Japanese woman, Marie Kondo, who has become quite the celebrity in Japan. While she does have some great advice and I'd definitely buy and read it again because HELLO MOTIVATION, she does express a few coo-coo beliefs regarding objects. For example, she says to never, ever ball up your socks, not only because they take up more room in the drawer and have the elastic stretched out, but mainly because it is their time to "rest" from all the hard work they've done in keeping your feet warm. Oh yes.

She also tells her house (and belongings) hello and goodbye each time she comes and goes and daily thanks her possessions for their services. The best thing I took away from the book is her advice on getting rid of things. She says that, while decluttering, pick up each thing and ask yourself, "Does this spark joy in me?" If the answer is no and it's not something you have to have, let it go. For some reason, that has made all the difference with me since I have already packed up and given away more than a dozen bags of clothes, bags and shoes. 

Though Ms. Kondo would probably say I failed the thankfulness part of the KonMari process because (although I gave it my best shot) I found it a bit difficult to thank old t-shirts for "serving me well" before sending them on their "journey". Still, I'm quite proud of myself for what I've accomplished thus far and am determined to go through, sort and discard or organize every single object in this house. I'm about a third of the way through the kitchen drawers at present because you know how most people have one junk drawer? Well, we had about five. Not even exaggerating.

In other news, let me tell you about the latest gray hairs given to me by my youngest child...

Yesterday afternoon, after I picked him up from school, I stopped at the eye doctor to pick up my contacts and was then headed to the post office and dollar store and was then going to pick up a few groceries and get them put away before picking up Devin from his after-school workouts around 4. But while I was in the post office, I got a text from him asking if I could just pick him up at normal time because he forgot his gym shorts. Once I got back to the car I texted him back to see if he wanted me to bring him some and he said that'd be good.

So, since I had to go home first to get the shorts, I postponed the dollar and grocery stores and started driving toward the house. I asked Dracen to please text his brother back (on my phone) to let him know we'd pull up on the side at the school and to come out and get his shorts when last period was over. I'm driving down the road when he asked (while looking at my phone), "What's Group MMS?" and there was a little panic in his voice. 

"WHAT did you DO?" 

Turns out, he thought it would be funny to send Devin a text back that read, "Coming Were gonna do this deal on the side as long as you got the cash I got the hash". 

And y'all. How I kept that car on the road is completely beyond me because he had just sent that to all the parents of kids on his basketball team, most of whom I do not personally know. HOW-WHAT-WHY...just WTH????!!! So I'm driving down the road physically shaking and screaming and questioning and just basically having a breakdown behind the wheel and not even knowing what to do or say or anything because first of all, HOW IN THE FLIP DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS AND WHY WOULD YOU SEND THAT TO YOUR BROTHER (AT SCHOOL!) IN THE FIRST DANG PLACE????

So then he was flipping out and shaking and stuttering, "I-I messed up! I thought it'd be funny-I heard it on a movie-and I didn't know what it meant!!! Tell them it was me-Just tell them it was ME!!!! I'm sorry! I'm SORRY!!!!"

I didn't know which one of us was going to hyperventilate first, especially after I started getting replies back, like "Umm. I think you need to check your numbers unless someone on the team needs some hash." Just shoot me. Now. Once I got to the school and parked (Dracen ran in the house somehow during all this and got the shorts that ended up being too small anyway so he didn't stay for workouts) at the school, I just replied with "I am so sorry! Somebody thought it would be funny to play with my phone and sent that to the wrong number."

Nothing but crickets.

Fabulous. Now I'm the neighborhood hash dealer.

Needless to say, I did not make it to the dollar store or the grocery store and I'm still sick on my stomach about it. When we got home, without my even asking, he walked in the house, got his laptop and phone and turned them in to me. When Charlie got home and heard the story, his reaction was almost as bad as mine so he sent him to his room where he fell asleep before eight o'clock. This morning he was grounded and told to write a letter of explanation and apology this afternoon that we will make copies of and hand out to all the parents of the team tonight at his game.

Should be great fun for all. 

Also, I was so flabbergasted and out of words that I failed to find out exactly what movie he heard this in and WHEN but I see a whole lot less t.v. viewing privileges in his immediate future (and possibly for the next seven or so years before his eighteenth birthday).

Deep breaths...DEEP breaths.

This too shall pass, 

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