Messy messes

I hate messes.  But husbands and children make messes and I have one of the first and seven of the latter.  That means that I put up with a lot of messes.  Worse than child-created or husband-created messes, however, are remodeling messes.  I have a love-hate relationship with remodeling projects.  They tend to make large messes and sometimes those large messes get goofed up and then they become even larger.

We once remodeled a kitchen.  It needed it, so that part I loved.  But for quite some time my kitchen was partly in my dining room and partly hidden in various locations throughout the house.  That I hated.  My current kitchen is terribly outdated and extremely inconvenient but aside from the fact that I'd rather spend the money on bringing another child home than on a new kitchen, I really don't want to go through that again!

We also once took out a set of stairs, turned them completely around, and went through a thick stone wall to make a new hallway.  And if that doesn't sound like enough of a mess, when the workers removed the steps, they found that the walls around them had issues and the project immediately got longer.  Our one-week planned vacation which was supposed to bring me home to a "new" house, instead took me right to my parents' house where we imposed on them for two more weeks.  I put up with that one because I was in my dream home, an old (very old) stone farmhouse with a long driveway and nice backyard for the kids to play.  We thought we were there forever.  Putting in a hallway so the upstairs didn't go around in one big circle was a great idea.  Until we moved.

In this house we've remodeled two bathrooms and that's enough, thank you very much.

But if we're going to add another child, we need another bedroom.  Thankfully our basement is a full basement.  Half of the basement is a family room, the other half is divided in three with two bedrooms and a larger space for the schoolroom.  One bedrooms was completed a few years ago.  The second bedroom was my sewing room but mothers have to make concessions when working on a dozen children so the sewing room had to go.  Where it ends up is yet to be determined; the first to volunteer an open room in your house gets dibs on the first project I make there.  Anyway, the second bedroom was recently remodeled to accommodate a teenager.

Now it's time for the schoolroom.  The first order of business was to remove the ugly orange and red and black and white carpet that has been there since long before we lived here.  It was the previous owner's mancave, complete with matching red bar and refrigerator from the 40s or 50s.  The bar came out for bedroom #1, refrigerator, too.  Before removing the carpet, however, the Good Doctor thought he should remove everything from the room.  I guess this was inevitable.  I only wish it didn't all end up in the family room.  Well, now it's a family room/sewing room/playroom/schoolroom.  It's not the kind of place my college professors would have called "conducive to learning."  It's also not conducive to sewing since I can't even get to my sewing machine.  Now it just sits there within eyesight but out of reach, calling to me, mocking me to hem those new jeans or finish a project or two.  Oh, how you mock me!

Instead I'm sitting on a chair I can barely pull out from the table, trying to teach my children about gymnosperms and Missouri compromises and examples of hyperbole, all while staring at one huge mess.

The conduciveness to learning aside, I cannot possible fulfill my role of mother in this state.  I also cannot teach in such poor working conditions.  I am definitely calling my union rep tomorrow.

Talking t.p.

Yesterday, someone posted this picture on Facebook

with the question, "Who does this?"

Well, I don't know who first came up with the idea (or I'd reference it here), but I immediately knew it could be put to good use.

We have a problem around here, and the problem is that I seem to be the only member of the household who replaces the empty toilet paper roll with a new one. At first I thought maybe it was an issue of lack of skill but lessons in the complex process of removing one tube and replacing it with a full one didn't change anything. Next, I thought maybe it was an issue of strength; the new, full roll, was just too heavy. But after watching the children wrestle with each other, I decided that couldn't be it. Finally, I realized it must just be an issue of forgetfulness. But thanks to the idea of talking toilet paper, I have (hopefully) solved the problem.


I'm waiting for some smart-aleck child to use the talking toilet paper to his or her own advantage. It's been 24 hours and counting...

Are you my mother?

I recently received this very cute email:

"Hi Mommy!!
When are we going to menchies again??? I've been a good girl!!
lyly, Emma"

I think Emma makes quite a point, don't you?

Only problem is, I don't have a daughter named Emma. Thinking Emma would figure out that she had the wrong mommy, I decided to ignore it. But the next day I found a new letter in my inbox, written in blue and green block letters:

"Hi Mommy!!! How do you like this font??? lyly Emma"

Okay, it's time to take some action. But how to respond? I have no clue who Emma is, where she is, or how she got me mixed up with her mother. There's the slightest possibility she's my niece who is named Emma, but a quick check confirmed the negativity of that guess.

I don't want to scare Emma, or her real mother, so what should I say/do? With the go-ahead from The Good Doctor and my eldest daughter, this is what I sent to poor Emma:

"Dear Emma, I'm so glad you've been a good girl. That is very important. I don't think I'm your mommy and I don't have a Menchies near me but if I were and if I did, I'd be sure to take you. I hope you find your mommy and get to Menchies soon! If you don't find your mommy, let me know. I have seven children and we'd be more than happy to add another to our clan.
Cindy (Someone else's mommy)"

The next day I received a new email, this time from Emma's mom:

"Cindy,
Thank you for your cute response to Emma's emails...she was very embarrassed that she emailed you!! Best of luck to you with your seven children!!
Take care,
Brittany King (Emma's mommy)"

Mission accomplished. Emma has found her mother and all is well. Sure feels good to reunite long-lost relatives. Maybe I've found my calling.

Do it yourself

Well, this writing challenge has me reading all sorts of blogs. Good grief, I'm surprised the whole world hasn't come to a stand-still while every human sits blogging at a computer. There's a blog for any theme, problem, or hobby out there. The problem with all these blogs is that they don't just let you read what they're thinking, they actually want you to do something. Like join a writing challenge. Or link up a DIY project.

Okay, why not? I'm on a roll. Yesterday, I started the 31 days writing challenge.

Today I link our first 2012 DIY project.

Need: Transform our Not-So-Pretty-In-Pink Bathroom into a gender neutral room; one that two brothers and their sister would be delighted to share. Actually, "delighted" might be too hopeful of a word to describe the bathroom-sharing abilities of brothers and their older sister.

This one was a three-generations undertaking. My dad is a wonderful DIY-er, combining skill with perfectionism, a great combo, if you ask me. And there were two 11 year old boys just waiting to get their hands dirty (and use those muscles). The rest of us did the boring work like paint, take off the toilet, and hang the shower curtain. The only work the three generations didn't do? Put the toilet back on and change the faucet. We've had plumbing nightmares in our DIY past and weren't too keen on repeating them.

The biggest problems were the pink tub and tile. Two summers ago we remodeled a downstairs bathroom, gutting the whole thing from heavy old tub to plaster walls. What a huge mess! We weren't ready for the mess or expense of that endeavor this time around. Instead, we decided to work around the pink.

The other problem was the lack of storage in this bathroom. Not a problem for my dad. He (and his grandsons) just knocked a hole in the wall, built in some cabinets, and voila!

Since pink and chocolate are so popular right now (I can't tell you how many pink and chocolate baby quilts I've made for friends in the past 5 years), I thought this would be a perfect fit.

We also wanted to include an African theme in honor of our adopted son, Shoun, who was born in Kenya. We already had a basket that had been brought from Zambia and a figurine that Shoun's older sister brought back from her recent trip to her home country. My mom purchased the other baskets from Ten Thousand Villages in eastern Pennsylvania. They were made in various African countries. Over Christmas I was visiting another Ten Thousand Villages shop, this one in Ohio, that was going out of business. They had a placemat made in Kenya that was marked down half price off of the already reduced price. I figured that at $8 the woven zebra placemat would look great on the wall of our new bathroom.

A new coat of paint on the old cabinets spruced them up a bit. As did the chocolate zebra shower curtain and the leopard designed floor mats.

My favorite touch would have to be the animal silhouettes on the shelves. I asked the four younger children to each make 3 or 4 African animal outlines. I then chose four of their designs to display. I cut each shape out of contact paper, attached one to each canvas and painted over them, removing the contact paper when finished, revealing the animal silhouette.

I may be decorating-challenged, but we're all pretty pleased with the final result. And so far, not too much fighting over the bathroom!

Giant Bible memory lesson

Sometimes I get these ideas in my head. Sometimes I even get great ideas. Sometimes these ideas never get farther than the brainstorming process in my head. Other times they get started, only to die a quick death. And then there are some ideas that are good ones and that stick around for a while, maybe forever.

My children probably enjoy watching me go through these phases. They ebb and flow; come and go. I can just hear my children as they reminisce about me someday.

"Remember when she went through her rice and beans phase? We had rice and beans once a week. She said she was teaching us about frugality and how the rest of the world lives. I think she was just trying to get out of eating meat. Or attempting to get Eden to expand her culinary horizons beyond yogurt and sandwiches."

"Or the time she went through the hymn phase. We not only had to sing the hymn of the week every night at dinner but we had to learn about the history of the hymn. She said she was passing on our heritage and voices from church history."

"And then there was the time she decided the whole house had to be a giant Bible memory lesson. We had an art project where we had to make an animal sculpture but she didn't stop there. The animal had to be holding a sign with a verse from Proverbs. She said it had to relate to our current lives, ie. no verses about quarreling wives. She put a verse above the door and made the steps into a daily scripture lesson.

And of course there were verses we had to memorize."

I pray that this is an idea that sticks. I love Deuteronomy 6: 4 - 8: Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.


So look out, Kids! Next plan: Paint the names of God on the basement wall.

Wordless Wednesday 15

The third, and final, installment in my Laundry Room series. This series has been one year in the making but is finally complete and proudly displayed in its intended location to serve as a reminder to all. Needs no words of explanation.

Well, not many anyway.

Wordless Wednesday 9

Print #2 in the Laundry Room Rules Series, Because it's better to be safe than sorry

Wordless Wednesday 7

Let's just say that I am no good at this wordless business and call it a day.

Or not.


Since this is my latest household project, I thought I would share it with you. Management is very tired of partner-less socks and has tried for years (approximately 15 to be exact) to find a solution. If you have been witness to the lonely sock pile in my house, you know what I mean. Think of the number of misplaced socks you have with 2 people, then multiply that a few times and you'll be close. It got so bad that the little bin I was using had to be replaced so I bought one of those collapsible hampers. Yep. A collapsible hamper. And it was almost completely full. Sad, I know.

But thanks to my friends at Allenberry, we have a new system at the King household. One day when I was child wrangling in the green room, I overheard this conversation:
"Peter, where are my socks?"
"Where did you put them?"
"In my lingerie bag."

Aha! Lightbulb. There's an idea. One of those, "Why didn't I think of that?" ideas.

Now each family member has his/her own lingerie bag (don't tell my boys that this is it's intended purpose) marked with the appropriate child's name. Any socks that you want sorted and returned to you must be placed in this bag before bringing it to the laundry room. Any socks not in a bag will be placed in the sock bin-of-rejects and you are on your own to look through and sort your own socks. So far, so good.

This sign, which will be hanging in my laundry room soon, is just a reminder of days gone past and of what life could be like for those who do not follow the system.

Next I'm going to make a pre-sort reminder. And yes, it is going to include pink underwear. First I need to "borrow" (no, I don't plan to wear it) some unsuspecting child's whitie tighties, soak them in some pink dye, then hang them from the line next to a bunch of red clothes. Brilliant.

I love visuals.