The ABC’s of Me
(or lack thereof)
(or lack thereof)
It is, or shall I say it has become, my life mission to become organized. Every break from school, every long weekend, every summer, I say to myself and to anyone who will listen, "I am going to get my life together and become organized." And they usually say something like, "Oh, I need to do that too, but we are going to the beach."
I long for a closet that looks like this. In my life with this closet there will be no more standing in my underwear on Sunday morning crying because I can't find the white cami to go under the dress I was going to wear. Or searching for the other silver sandal. Or the ranting and raving that I know that my half slip just went through the laundry and now poof! it's gone!
Or a laundry room that looks like this. One that smells like dryer sheets and there is nothing on the floor. Where everyone has their own little section where their clean folded clothes go. I've even designed this in my head and I may have even told Daryl about it, hoping he would jump on my organizational bandwagon and knock down a wall or two to build me the laundry room of my dreams that will make my laundry life magically easier. I would always be caught up on the laundry! Good bye to Mt. Laundry at the end of the bed! No one in our house would ever have to dig in the sock basket again!
And the playroom would be a happy, spacious, organized place where the children would play happily for hours at a time. They wouldn't feel the need to bring every single toy to the living room, set up Barbie housekeeping on the steps (even though between them they own three Barbie houses). I would never again step on a lego or a Barbie chair.
And of course, if my home were organized, I would have more time to organize our lives with cool color coded calendars. And maybe even have one of those nifty family binders that seem to be all the rage among mothers these days.
And then there would be my classroom. My classroom starts out every year very organized. Everything has it's place, every activity a procedure. Color coded baskets abound.
And then real life sets in. And the twenty six year olds come in every day. And most days, they are absolutely delightful. But some days, well, they are six. And I don't feel like staying an hour after school to re-do all of the things that they have undone during our learning that day. Or there is cheer practice and soccer game and the little girls have to be picked up because Daryl has to work after work. So I start a pile, or shove a book, or stick it in a closet. And by the end of the year, I have a year's worth of papers to file (a twenty year summer activity now), a classroom to organize as I put it away, and I vow to do better next year. I spend the summer googling (or now Pinteresting) classroom organizational ideas and begin my year with lofty plans.
And it's the same at home. I will get one area beautifully organized, but then the children (or my husband) happen, and it's the end of the day, and quite honestly, I'd rather sit in the living room with my family and play on the computer and watch reality TV than clean. So, I guess I could say that it's my own choice that I remain unorganized and hassled. That I'm too lazy. That I am living out the consequences of my choices.
But do you know what? Despite my chronic disorganization, I am an awesome teacher. Notices go out on time, the children's records are kept (tho not always filed immediately), and every child in my classroom feels important and loved. And despite the fact that my children know to expect me to lose my keys at least once a day, never have my phone, and if they want anything washed for the next day, they have to do it themselves, I think I am a good mother. My children are honest, kind, compassionate, smart, and love the Lord.
So, I will continue on my quest to become organized, knowing that it will probably remaind just out of my reach until my kids are grown and gone, and then when it's just Daryl and me to manage, will it even matter? Now, off to plan our menu for the next week.
If I could only find a pencil.....