Keeping the Mess in Check

The chief cause of disorder, messiness, and chaos in my home.

When I was young, I couldn't understand the hullabaloo over a messy house.  Why so much discord?  It was a source of painful contention between myself and my parents; I thought, why can't they just let it go?  I knew I had more important things to do, books to read, photos to scrapbook, poems to pluck out of the air.  You can't control everything in your life down to the last detail.  Mere living is going to create messes.  I'ts the sign of existence.  There's such a thing called the Law of Entropy, which seemed to back my case that everything, left to itself, neither abused nor taken care of, would approach a greater and greater state of disorder.

I don't know what shifted or clicked into place or turned the gears: but nowadays I am so undone by a disorderly home that I can feel the frustration choking me like a cloud of cigarette smoke.  It fogs my mind, puts my heart thumping, and makes me panic.  I hate that I'm like this.  I hate that the state of my house can affect me so much as to alter my mood, making me cold and short with my son and husband, interfering with my creativity and clarity.

I know that some of it is about control: when so much in my life feels like a runaway train in a black-and-white western, the cleanliness of my home is one way I can gain the upper hand, so to speak, be a Big Woman--more like a spoiled child on atop a hill claiming to be king of the world.  I need to let that go, acquiesce into the arms of God, know that He is in control of everything and I am in control of nothing, and with that find peace.

But I think there is more to it than that.  Something tugs at my sleeve, saying, "It's not just about having control."  I am and was always moth-antennae sensitive to my environment.  My surroundings affect not only my mood but my ability to perform.  Productivity is clogged if I'm distracted by an ugly home, whether I know it is because I should clean it or because it is just difficult to accomplish things when I don't know where I put down my pen or my shoes or am tripping over that pile of laundry every time I walk through the hallway. I want to be more productive, not less.  That's tricky because one could easily be consumed in the up-keep, cleaning at the expense of all else that is more valuable and worthwhile: a picnic with my family, prayer time in front of the Sacrament, writing letters to friends.

There is also the artistic sense in me, that thrives in a lovely home, with pretty meals, eclectic music, and a rhythm like that of a monastery, alternating work and repose.  Surrounding myself by beauty is so, so important to me.  At one time, I would have thought of it as a shallowness, and reprimanded myself.  Stepped into self-imposed guilt like a well-worn dress.  But not anymore.  One can create beauty in so many ways.  It's not about stuff.  A vignette of colorful pebbles, pine cones, and dried flowers in a glass is a drink of beauty in a home, and it costs nothing but a walk outdoors.  An old quilt folded on top of a trunk.  Warm homemade bread wrapped in a clean dishtowel.

I don't want to be the way I remember my family being: the arguments forever circling around "pick up your laundry," "put your plate in the sink," "I don't like your shoes here," etc.  I want to be free of that conflict, the kind inside and out, in my soul and running back and forth on the lines of communication between my family, like electricity.  I'm not sure what I can do to exercise more patience and peace and letting-go.  Perhaps the old adage in this instance is applicable: fake it 'til you make it.

In the meantime, I can do things that will ease the tension and struggle, by trying to keep on top of the mess and intervening before it gets out of hand.  So I drew out this plan.  It's not hard-and-fast, more a guide, but if I do follow it closely, I know I will save myself stress.  There are five rooms in my home, and five days in the work week, so I've divided the chores thusly:

MONDAY--Bedroom

• clean windows

• make bed

• dust shelves & tables

• sort and wash/dry/fold/put away laundry, esp. sheets

• vacuum

TUESDAY--Sunroom/Dining room

• sweep, mop, and vacuum

• vacuum & arrange sofa

• clear & wipe down table

• put away miscellaneous objects (toys)

• clean windows

WEDNESDAY--Kitchen

• shake out rugs (wash if needed)

• sweep, mop, vacuum

• unload dishwasher

• clean counters, stove, table, etc.

• put away miscellaneous objects

THURSDAY--Bathroom

• scrub bath tub & shower

• scrub sink & counter-top

• clean toilet (in and out)

• sweep & mop & vacuum

• put away miscellaneous objects

• fold towels and/or replace with fresh, clean ones

• clean mirror

• organize & clear away shelves

FRIDAY--Back room

• vacuum (& hallway)

• put away misc. objects

• organize closet & clothes

• clean windows

• clear & organize desk, dresser, surfaces

ALL WEEK
take out trash, put away groceries, pick up after the Squirt, wash dishes as used, put away clothes

The weekends--and here I may vary which days are weeks and which are weekends depending on my work schedule and how tired I am--should be taken off, except for the ALL WEEK chores.  Those are necessary to keeping myself from getting behind and creating a snowball effect that will trip after my heels, chase me, and threaten to knock me over completely, so that I am back in the helpless Cathy-comic caricature, crying in a heap on the floor and tugging out my hair.

So I hope.