Strike when the Iron...

Now, before you read this and think "Poor Steve" I would like to point out that a) I asked him first and b)it's all his fault for HAVING the idea in the first place.

You know how I'm always saying that Steve is always right? You may ridicule an idea or theory he is adamantly sticking to today, but I guarantee it's time alone he needs to be proven right. It's thoroughly frustrating. Well, I guess I've found the other side of the coin for him

We were brainstorming what we want the downstairs to be. As many of you know it is a sort of dungeon at the moment. No... dungeons are far too peaceful to be compare to our downstairs. I love our downstairs. But it's not finished. It's not even close to where it will someday be. Cement walls cause difficulties as does the under-earth darkness and huge unworkable space.

But someday... people... someday... it's going to be AWESOME.

Anyway so as usual, my first reaction to all three of Steve's more rigorous ideas was a sigh and a speech about how that wasn't feasible, wouldn't work, would be too much money, I didn't like it... etc. etc. etc. BUT it may have taken ten years, but my mind has finally reconciled to the idea that Steve is usually... if not always... right... so maybe I should think before I speak.

No, No, NO... he can't be right this time...

We have contractors over to bid and not only do the contractors agree with Steve... but the bid is something we can handle... we're not sure we WANT to put money out into the world right at this moment in time, but we COULD if we were ready.

Basically what it all boils down to today is that Steve's master plan includes that we turn the back office (currently a closet and catch-all for everything and nothing) into a play room, close off the awkward space beside it and make that Steve's office. The master plan includes a couple new doors and a lot of other neat things.

My main complaint about this plan is that the kids hang out where WE are, and that is usually in the living room where the tv is. We originally HAD that back room as a play room. Okay, not originally, but sometime between now and then and it didn't work. Abby just took the toys from that room INTO the living room and never back and it was never organized and blah blah blah.

We put a tv in there, Steve explains. I squint at him. Hmm... I still think it won't work unless I'm in there with... OooOOOH. So basically it's just like regular life just in a different room. Ooooh. Hmmmm. Okay... this could work.

Except of course who knows when we'll do the construction and who knows when it will be complete and blah blah blah.

BESIDES, I whine to you, I'm pregnant. I'm more tired than I usually am, food doesn't sit well with me, I have a pot belly the size of a soccer ball already and I am cranky and...

But I've been feeling a little better and there was an organization special on Oprah in which the old Clean Sweep guy - Peter somebody? who I like alot, said something like "As soon as you lose your flat surfaces you've lost the battle" or something like that. And I scoffed... yeah, I never had the flat surfaces under control... you're crazy... that's what flat surfaces are FOR.

But it made me stare long and hard at the table we use downstairs... how it is so frustratingly full of stuff... I don't even KNOW what makes it so cluttered.

And I discussed with Steve my plan. Our goal goal goal is to keep the house tidy for two week intervals (because Gladys comes in two week intervals)... we can usually make it 4 days to a week and then the place looks like I let four kids come in and play hockey with granola. So, especially when I'm pregnant, even though I shoot for that two week goal, I'm very aware I ain't going to make it.

BUT I thought... (and suggested to Steve) maybe we could reclaim our most major flat surface offender. If we could do that for two weeks, that would make a big difference in daily life.

Steve was amenable and everything seems fine right? If you're saying "poor Steve" already you obviously don't know me very well.

So then I tell my mother (who no doubt secretly has nightmares about her daughter's lack of organization passion) the plan, thinking she'll be very proud of me.

"I know what your problem is, it's the laundry."

And we go into a mock yelling fight over the real problem and I point out what Sarah made me re-realize when we went out to dinner and that is, I am without passion for organizing the house because most of it is still so totally far away from where it's going to be. And I don't know if its going to be next month or next decade that we do anything about it. So it's almost as if we're living out of boxes, living in a house that might as well just be down to the studs for how we see most of the downstairs in particular. I can't put up my art/photos downstairs because their style is meant for the future downstairs not the current. I can't do the same in the bedrooms because we're going to be playing musical bedrooms sometime in the next year. When? I dunno, but not yet. Not for maybe a year... which is too long not to try to make things better and too short to decide to spend enough money just make things beautiful as they are (if that makes sense).

So my mother and I brooded at one another for a while. And then I narrowed my eyes again. Steve's plan for the playroom, with the exception of a possible addition of another doorway, would leave that room essentially as it is in structure. SoooOOoo... if we worked on that room...fixed it the way we want it... it would be really truly finishing a room.

We sketch out the plan... discover we're going to have to do something about Steve as he currently is using a corner of that room as a closet.

I call Steve, explain our plan... he's excited about it, he starts thinking about his closet options and we hang up.

THEN... my mother and I strike while I have the energy, will and Jack's nap on my side.

Steve gets home a few hours later to a cleaned out room (with the exception of his closet area which we promise to leave until we figure out what he's going to do... but... we do point out the daybed we're going to put back down there as a couch option won't fit until he moves his clothes, but really, no rush, no rush, we swear).

SO Steve will move his clothes back into our room (which will eventually be Abby's room). I moved my clothes to Jack & future baby's room (which will eventually be ours). Tomorrow... we do more.

If I can move.

I'm tired.

And yes I know Steve is awesome... it's his own fault for being right.