Day 28
We have a landing halfway up the stairs between the main and top floors. It's covered with oldish not-great-quality builder's carpet, but it's a nice size. When I sort through the kids' clothes, or when they do, the first place discards go is down on the landing, to be sorted and apportioned properly. I make neat stacks of stuff along the wall so there's still plenty of room to walk upstairs.
When Matt and I were away in Toronto one of the times we were in Toronto this fall, he talked to my mom on the phone at one point and told me that they had had no hot water, so she'd gone to shower at our house. If you have a mother anything like mine, you'll understand why this struck fear into my heart.
I saw her when we got back and mentioned that the woman who cleans for us was coming that evening. She said "how can she clean?" I looked at her blankly, and then she said "what IS all that stuff on your landing?" Oh, I thought, of COURSE, she means that because there are a few stacks of clothing and things along the sides of the wall on the landing, NOTHING in the house can be cleaned. I said rather shortly that the stuff was there to be sorted and left, slightly pissed off.
The next day, I looked at the landing and thought, in all fairness, it HAS been a while since I sorted through it. Through all of it, anyways - I frequently take things from the top layer to give to friends with slightly younger children or when OFCP or the Diabetes Association is coming by. But the bottom layer? Now that I was thinking about it, it was quite possible that the bottom layer hadn't seen any action for an embarrassingly long time.
So I brought it all downstairs and started making piles.
So the landing was clear. You would think this would be a good thing, but it was distressing for everyone - people would get to the landing and complain of vertigo from all the unaccustomed space. What if I trip? they would say. Where's the cozy bumper of fleece and cotton, my head will just smash RIGHT INTO THE WALL.
When Matt and I were away in Toronto one of the times we were in Toronto this fall, he talked to my mom on the phone at one point and told me that they had had no hot water, so she'd gone to shower at our house. If you have a mother anything like mine, you'll understand why this struck fear into my heart.
I saw her when we got back and mentioned that the woman who cleans for us was coming that evening. She said "how can she clean?" I looked at her blankly, and then she said "what IS all that stuff on your landing?" Oh, I thought, of COURSE, she means that because there are a few stacks of clothing and things along the sides of the wall on the landing, NOTHING in the house can be cleaned. I said rather shortly that the stuff was there to be sorted and left, slightly pissed off.
The next day, I looked at the landing and thought, in all fairness, it HAS been a while since I sorted through it. Through all of it, anyways - I frequently take things from the top layer to give to friends with slightly younger children or when OFCP or the Diabetes Association is coming by. But the bottom layer? Now that I was thinking about it, it was quite possible that the bottom layer hadn't seen any action for an embarrassingly long time.
So I brought it all downstairs and started making piles.
Hmm.
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| Bathtub toys. My kids are fourteen and eleven. |
Yeah, so.
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| It's possible my mother had a point. |
So I cleaned out the linen closet.
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| Back to normal. |
Comments
I have a breast pump in my bedroom...
I know my kitchen has one with papers, my basement has one in an area where kids are "encouraged" to avoid and one in my bedroom. Dare I mention "my closet"? I do like the "bumper" idea though! I may have to start a new area...