Chaos to calm in just 15 minutes...

Do you ever feel overwhelmed by all that clutter and mess that surrounds you, but just don't have the time to clean it all up? ME TOO! So, I am tackling my messies 15 minutes at a time. I literally set my timer for 15 minutes and do all I can in that little block of time. It is amazing how much can actually be accomplished in 15 minutes.

Since I just love make-overs with before and after shots, I am going to share the good, the bad, and the ugly with you all.

I would like to clarify here that I am not a messy person. I hate messiness and chaos. I love, love, love to organize. However, there just does not seem to be enough time in the day to get it all done, and so in my hurry, I drop things at the nearest spot and run on to the next activity. Before I know it, the clutter has grown and spread like some sort of fungus.

Here is what I see every time I walk in my bedroom. There is a beautiful antique vanity carefully hidden under all that stuff.







Here is a pile of "give-away" clothes as well as my athletic shoes hiding behind my door.



My sneakers are probably there because here is what the floor of my closet looks like. (((sigh)))



So, I set my timer.


And then I clean and tidy like crazy. Here is what I accomplished in just 15 minutes!







I even managed to work in the area behind my door!



I can now smile when I walk in my room.

Next, I tackle the office. EEK!

On the hook...

What could it be?

Perhaps this will help a little.

Or this? Amazing how eyes add personality!

Any guesses?

My apologies to you parents out there who have been subjected to countless hours of the PBS show "Zoboomafoo" and are now humming in your head "Who could it be? This animal that I did see? Can you guess this mystery?"

What true love looks like.

Would you like to see a picture of love and sacrifice?

Or, as the Pillsbury Dough Boy says, "Nothing says lovin' like something from the oven."


Why yes, that would be homemade-from-scratch lassagne! And yes, I did make it with my own two hands even though I feel majorly crummy.

Oh, and did I mention the homemade-from-scratch chicken pot pie that I cooked yesterday, even though death was knocking at my door? And when I say from scratch, I mean from scratch. No canned soup, no Bisquick, no processed chicken.

Okay, so maybe I was feeling just a little guilty about the frozen pizza we had for Sunday dinner.

Keepin' It Real

Do you get discouraged when you visit a blog where the photos are perfect, the house is tidy, the family is always doing wonderful, creative things, the mother is together, patient, and she sews all their clothes as well as bakes and cooks everything from scratch?? It seems too good to be true and you feel like a failure. Well, there has been a movement in the blogosphere towards "Keepin' It Real." Here, here and here are some examples.

I must admit, there are some blogs that I look at regularly because of their loveliness. I go to be inspired and I am not at all ruffled by their perfection. Let's be frank. If I want to see a sink full of dirty dishes, I don't have to go to the internet.

Surely, no one reading my blog would get the illusion that I have it all together. However, just in case, the previous post about being sick is my effort at "Keepin' It Real." Just so you know that even though my children are incredibly intelligent, good looking and talented, we are not perfect.

Do I LOOK like Wonder Woman???

I am sick. It is like a scene from Little Women. While one of my children soothes my fevered brow, another is fluffing my pillow. Yet another asks if there is anything he can do or get for me. My daughter brings me a warm, comforting drink. The older ones remind the younger ones that Mother Dear is ill and they must be quiet so that she can get her rest.

Well, at least that is how it goes in my fantasy world!

In the real world, I am laying on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, looking like death warmed over, hacking and sniffling, and my children are moving about as quiet as a herd of buffalo. I don't think it takes any supernatural powers of observation to deduct by my appearance (and the 100 used tissues that surround me) that perhaps I may be just a tad under the weather. But somehow, in my house I have to announce it.

"Mom, are we doing anything today?

"No. I am sick!"

"Mom, can you take us to the mall?"

"No. I am sick!"

"Mom, will you make me French toast?"

"No. I am sick!"

"Mom, what is for dinner tonight?"

"I am not sure, but let me get up and drag myself into the kitchen to prepare your meal. Oh, and if I should happen to pass out, and you find me laid out on the floor, please be kind and throw a little cold water on my face to rouse me."

I don't know. I would like to think that I have raised kind, compassionate, thoughtful children. However, I have failed. It is either failure, or they have somehow gotten in their minds that I am Wonder Woman, totally impervious to all infections and viruses.