I'm a big advocate of everything having a place. Firstly in the literal sense, as in "put away those frocking trains before I slip on one and do myself a mischief!". But, also regarding a designated time for things to be done. A place in the day for things to fit. Keeping everything in it's little box frees up lots of extra time to do all those good things. The stop and smell the roses things. If my family manage to put things back where they belong, I can spend more of the afternoon running around outside in the garden instead of traipsing round the house sticking things here, there and everywhere.
If I know the kids have a sleep at the same time each day, I don't have to spend the day fussing over what to do with them, dealing with the crankies or watching intently, waiting for tired signs. I just put them to bed and get on with other stuff (like blogging) while they rest and refresh.
Knowing what's going to happen and when, frees my head up. I don't fill it with constant organisational thoughts. I'm not always keeping half an eye on things wondering when I should get on to them. For a long while I was still in a pre-baby head space. I used to look around the house doing jobs as I noticed them needing to be done. I would look anxiously at the floor, hating it's grottiness and resenting feeling like I had to wash it ALL the time. With two professional food dispersing units busy at every meal and snack time, I could easily wash it everyday, twice a day, and it would still look revolting. So, the solution is to schedule the floor mopping (and vaccuuming) in. I've put the rotten job in it's place. Wednesday is floor mopping day and if it looks filthy any other day of the week, I don't care.
Ditto with towel washing. I used to wash them when they were getting as bit musty and the weather was looking suitable. Since being bogged down in child rearing duties I started to find them only when they'd got a bit too musty. When they'd been forgotten about. So, rain hail or shine, towels go in on Monday.
I also used to leave the breakky dishes until there were enough to warrant filling the sink. Now I do them straight after breakfast because two kids demanding toast, porridge and milo makes for a pile of dishes that blocks the sun and I don't want to do them all while they're wiling away the hours in bed. I want to chill out too.
Scheduling in my buntyandsars time works well, too. I know that no matter what other chaos ensues, I get my special creative time every Tuesday and Friday afternoon. I don't have to spend energy resenting the filthy house or the uncooperative kids for keeping me from it. Again, yay for a place in the day/week for everything.
The more I type, the more nuts I sound. It makes it seem that I run a tight ship and have a spotless house. The ship might be tight, but the house is far from spotless, I just reckon life's too short to fill my spare minutes cleaning. Or thinking about cleaning.
Now I'll move on to the next point. Rules were meant to be broken. Last Thursday we said hang the bath and stuff the 7pm bedtime, we're off to a family night at Donegans farm. It was great. The place is a family run affair just outside of Ballarat and the kids ran around chasing chooks, patting sheep and mooing at cows until ten o'clock. Come Friday, I woke my precious, sleepy little girl at the ridiculous hour of nine o'clock only to whisk her off to the local show, leaving the house looking like a bomb had gone off. Yay for breaking my rules!
I have long thought the local show was a daggy, commercial shebang designed only to fill teenage kids with sugar, junk food (and the odd bottle of soft drink cleverly disguising a generous amount of alchohol) before hurling them around on a rickety ride run by a dodgy looking character. Vomiting to follow. However, we took my little boy and small baby last year and had a wonderful time. It really is all about the kids.
Our trip this year was just as good. They oohed at the aninal nursery and ahhed on the tiny boat ride. A ride I fondly remember going on as a little girl. They sat patiently to have their faces painted, staring in wonder at their reflections afterwards. A man with a nifty set up of vintage train whistles scared the pants off many a kiddie (not mine, a bit of noise and danger and my boy's in). We finished off the day perusing the award winning cakes, sculptures made from paddle pop sticks (gold), and bread tie collage/paintings (I kid you not). Then loading up with fairy floss and showbags (ta, Nanna) and dragging our sugar filled, weary selves home. The only thing missing was a quiet cuppa and scone with the CWA ladies. WHERE WERE THEY??
Upon arriving home, my obsession with routine pays off. Kids to bed for afternoon sleep at about 1:30...we don't see them again until 5o'clockish. Yay for routine!
Since then I've been a tad worried about the future of our local shows. Today I read a letter to the local paper suggesting the time had passed for these events and that they were no longer relevant. I hope not. It makes me want to start a pro-show movement. Could we not update the whole thing while retaining the traditional but still good bits? Bring back the CWA. Craft is big again, lets see the new breed. And what about all of this trendy self sustainable living? Demo's on gardening and chook raising, please. Some roller derby, perhaps. There are still lots of great community groups and clubs doing interesting and cool things so lets suck them in and line them up next to the wood chop and vintage steam engine display. It might not be agriculturally focussed anymore, but it could still be great.
I've also been doing a little bit of research and there are a few new ideas tumbling around in my brain bucket. They will be new editions to the cut and colour range and I think with some careful development they'll be very cool, so keep your eyes peeled.
I've just had a huge pile of printing done in anticipation of my double whammy market weekend. It's getting closer and I'm getting exited. You all should too, because if you get along to the Sugar and Spice Market on Sunday the 28th of November early enough you might score a free goodie bag including a special buntyandsars colouring sheet.
Is that the sound of cot sheets rustling? My blogging time is up.
No comments:
Post a Comment