this is no democracy

Last night while I ate supper, I was thinking of the millions of things that need to be done in this house. And knowing that I would have to do a marathon cleaning to even get close to getting it done. And that would mean an entire Saturday. Cleaning. Dusting. Organizing. Washing. Scrubbing. And I knew I didn't want to give up an entire Saturday to do any of that. I had to come up with a plan.

So I declared a Momma Rule.

I don't use it often. The best Momma Rule I have ever enacted is the laundry rule: everyone over the age of ten must wash, dry, fold and put away his/her own laundry. It works wonderfully. I pick up some slack during the summer and during Christmas break when I'm not working, and maybe when I know someone has had a bad week, but most of the time I'm only responsible for my own laundry. I have to admit that there have been occasional catastrophes - like the time the big boy washed and dried a black gel pen with an entire load of new spring shirts and shorts. And EVERYTHING had black ink on it. Luckily, I found a cleaner that got most of it out - and he wore the rest with a little black ink on it.

Another Momma Rule - the momma doesn't take out the garbage. And in the last few years, I rarely have. And I have to say that Baby Jus is pretty good about doing it without even being told.

I occasionally pull a single night the-one-who-cooks-doesn't-clean-the-kitchen Momma Rule. But honestly I try not to use too many. Because I'm frugal with the power, they don't question me too much when I proclaim a new rule.

So because I have a few Momma Rules to use. And because I needed a plan to get this house clean without giving up my Saturdays forever and always. Last night I walked into the living room and proclaimed, "Momma Rule. Beginning tonight, everyone is required to clean for 30 minutes each night." There are no rules about what has to be done, no schedule. Everyone gets to choose the job he/she wants to do on that particular night. The only thing that doesn't count is laundry.

I love Momma Rule.

GPS needed

All of my life I've heard the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

In May, I had such grand intentions for the summer. Most of which involved cleaning and organization. But some included spending time with family and friends and getting a headstart on the next school year. Then June came. And those days at the lake. Where I forget what day of the week it is. And suddenly it's July 4th. I have a love/hate relationship with that holiday. That day has flashing lights and caution signs.

Warning! Warning! You are now on the downside of your summer! It's all down hill from here. School will be starting before you know it!

After all these years of teaching, I know it. I dread it. And still it catches me.  All those things that I intended to do during my summer can't possible be squeezed into these few short weeks. This year there was a new baby and a family wedding. And those took precedence over all other plans.

And this week there's VBS. It's at night, so technically I have all day to do what needs to be done. But part of that day is spent preparing for the night's lesson. And then I leave early to get things set up. I have a great partner. She reminded me last night that I promised to come swimming with her this summer, and now summer is over, and I haven't been to her house even once. I even promised her a few weeks ago, "I'm coming swimming next week." But it was the week of the wedding, and I didn't have time to poop that week much less go swimming.

I intended to have lunch with coworkers. Get acquainted with the new teacher before school. But it hasn't happened. I haven't even managed to get her phone number. And I have tried several times. So instead of jumping in and getting real work done those first few days back, we'll be doing that awkward getting-to-know-you dance. I don't have time for being nice when school starts! So I'll end up saying something bossy or demanding or worse, and it will take weeks to get past it and just work.

I intended to make it for sisters day at the Country Store. My mother has nine brothers and sisters. Every Wednesday the majority of them meet at the store for lunch. It is quite a crowd. Kids, grandkids, aunts, uncles, and cousins all join the fun when possible. And since I can't go during the school year, I had intentions of going several times this summer. I've made it one time. Next Wednesday is my last shot. Dare I say it?  I intend to be there.

My truck came with a GPS. It talks to me. I have named her LaTisha. I can map my destination, and Latisha guides me along. "Right turn in one quarter mile." Right turn in 100 feet." She keeps me on course. And if for some reason I stray, she reminds me. "Please make a legal u-turn." "Please make a legal u-turn." Over and over until I get back on the designated course or am at least headed towards my original destination. I need a Latisha to guide me through my summers. To guide me all year! Someone to remind me to make that u-turn and get back on track. Sometimes I need to be reminded of my intended destination.