The holidays are finally- almost- officially over in my household.

Yes, they do seem to last a long time here. First we have Thanksgiving, then Christmas and New Years, then birthdays--- all right in a row.

And this year, Grandma came up for the boy's birthdays and took Chaos back down to Florida with her as a treat. (The treat was that Hubby and I got some alone time-albeit with Doc, but he's still so little and doesn't make gaggy noises over cooties!)

But, in less than a week, Chaos will be back home and life will resume as normal.

In the meantime, this next week will be insane between final housecleaning (and child-proofing now that Doc is mobile!) and a couple of small construction and organization projects.

I'm going to go back to writing on Two Weeks From Scratch soon, as well as posting some updates on a few other writing gigs I've picked up along the way. Oh- and there will be crafty posts as soon as I get the craft area moved to the other side of the house.

But, in the meantime, I'm going to go tuck Doc into bed and have a bit of snuggle time with my Fluffy Nerf-herder Hubby and try to ignore the massive amount of stuff that was moved from point A to point B during the great remodel project.

This is How We (and Mary Jane) Do It

Living with a plethora of geeks throughout the years has led me to the ultimate Super Hero ability:

No... I can't run faster than the ice cream truck. Nor can I leap over Lego Towers in a single bound.
However I can defeat the dark forces of... The Laundry Basket!

*insert menacing theme music here*

How, you might ask, do I keep the local heroes costumes so neat and tidy? Haven't you ever wondered how Superman can break through a brick wall, save a kitten from a fire, and fight off bad guys... AND come out in a mint-condition, identity-concealing costume?

The answer, quite simply:
Mom's Hero Laundry Services---No stain we can't defeat!

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Seriously, though, my geeklet's costuming has taken on it's fair share of stains and grime.

To keep your costume nice and clean, I endorse these tips:

• Wash colors with colors, lights with lights. Nothing runs a Super Hero's image faster than having his whites mysteriously turn pink!
• Take two minutes to prevents snags and tears- zip zippers, button those buttons, and clasp the clasps! Even velcro should be firmly attached to it's mated piece.
• It's not Bizarro--- turn those outfits inside-out to prevent fading. Also, by treating stains from the opposite side of the fabric, you aren't just grinding the dirt further into the fabric.
  
• Don't overload the washer and hang the clothing to dry. If it's a particularly stretchy piece of costuming, lay it flat to dry on a sweater rack.

Anyone can do laundry. But it takes super powers to defeat the forces of dirt and grime!


*image from Sideshow Collectibles.

Wherein it Goes to Hell in a (cute) Handbasket

Hubby got assigned a random training class on the other side of the country.

I suspect my brain got packed into his bag and is now basking in the rays of sunshine on it's own mini vacation.

So far this week I haven't been able to cook without things going awry.

Somehow the heater got turned up so high in the house that the left-over Halloween candy melted.

I got a flat tire. (Luckily, I'm the one that handles car stuff normally since Hubby is woefully inept and could change my own tire.)

Each of the kids has thrown super-tantrums. I didn't even know that the infant could throw tantrums- he's normally incredibly laid back. I cringe thinking about it.

I can't wait until my brain comes back. Hopefully, it'll be nice and rested and ready to take on a new adventure and give my body a rest.

Home Reorganization and the Virgo

I'm a Virgo.

This drives my husband nuts because when I'm a neat-freak, I'm pretty OCD. When I'm not a neat-freak, I can still tell you exactly where everything is.

In preparation for home schooling Chaos, I've flipped the living room into a sort of topsy-turvy wreck of space.

Our living room is huge. Large. Spacious. When we first moved in a few months ago, I actually looked at the place and wondered how, exactly, I was supposed to assign "zones" like the pros at HGTV suggest. With this room taking up exactly one-third of the total floor space for the house, I'm still in awe some days at how much "stuff" I put in here... and still had empty patches.

But no more. A few thrifty shopping trips through the clearance aisles and I picked up some bookshelves, storage footstools, and a rug that was marked 95% off. My home is clearly marked out in purpose now.

However, somewhere in the re-organization, I had to make a compromise with my husband. He's taking over my craft area. I get to keep my small bookshelf over there (now neatly organized after three hours of work) to store my projects and supplies, but I no longer have the large table to use as a sewing surface. Instead, my sunny window spot will be taken over with computers. I'm not totally pleased with this.

My sulkiness at being relocated has manifested in a resurgence of my Virgo tendencies. I'm taking my sweet time to clean and put things away. I'm picking up items individually. I'm stopping to put like items together. I'm putting things away at the exact moment I pick it up. The most accurate description would be to imagine someone digging a hole with a teaspoon when there's probably a shovel sitting nearby. My husband has retreated with a laptop to the bedroom to escape the utter madness.

But, in the efforts of harmony, I'll be nice. I'll clear a spot off the couch for him.
For now.

Tomorrow I'll be EVIL.

A Busy Mama Gets to Rest

The weeks have flown by and I'm finally settling into a routine. Of course, that routine will quite possibly explode next week, but that's just proof that I'm pretty flexible.

I spent some time in the past week getting to know my local farmer's market merchants and my local butchers. I picked up most of my groceries for dirt cheap since I got to cut out the middleman. It feels really great to know that I've got something with quality for the rock-bottom prices I paid.

Now, since today is rather rainy and cool out, it's the perfect time for making some homemade treats and sitting back with my knitting needles.

Yet Another Way in Which I Have a Moment of Fail

Earlier this summer, I lucked out and managed to get all of Chaos's back-to-school clothes shopping done. I spent a day patiently helping him pick and sort through all the new clothing rack and I felt pleased that we were not caught by the last minute rush. When we got home, we showed Dad all his new clothes.

I decided at that time, however, to wait until the payday before school to get new shoes for him. His feet have a habit of growing and his father regaled me with horror stories of his own foot growth at the kindergarten age, thus, I felt safe in putting off what I considered to be the most crucial part of his back to school wardrobe.

So, last Friday, I sent him with his Dad to get new shoes. My husband, after a child-hood of extra large feet and ill-fitting shoes is fanatical about getting the "perfect" fit for all our kids. I figured this might be a good chance for them to have some male bonding time plus an opportunity for my husband to feel useful. (He always says that I run the house too efficiently.)

After they returned, I asked Chaos excitedly about his new shoes.

"Yep," he replied rather sardonically for a five-year old. (I rolled my eyes here. This is how my Husband replies to me and Chaos thinks it's funny to act like his Dad's worst traits.)
He opens the bag and pulls out...a pair of tennis shoes... in vivid fire truck red.

I stare at them. RED?!?

Everything my son picked out for school clothes happened to be aqua. Bright. Vivid. Aqua. Not a stitch of it was red or anything that remotely matched red.

I expressed this to his Dad later and he looked at me like I was weird.

"But sweetie... all his clothes are blue. Not red. His shoes don't match. They'll stand out a mile away!"

"He wanted red shoes." My husband was firm.

"But they don't match...." I begin again.

"Sweetheart," my husband said patiently while shaking his head, "he's a FIVE YEAR OLD BOY. He doesn't care if his shoes match his purse. At that age, he wants shoes that look FAST."

I closed my mouth at that logic. I think it over. My son always picks out some really nice outfits... then proceeds to wear them in combinations that defy logic. Yellows with blues with orange stripes often get paired with mismatched socks and camo.

Then it hit me... my husband's right. He's a boy. He doesn't have to worry about his shoes matching his figurative purse.

I have to worry about his shoes matching his purse, though... because I'm a girl.

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As a side note: I finally broke down and bought him a few new shirts... all of which match his shoes.

So close, yet so far away.

Back to school.
It's almost here. I'm patiently waiting for it to arrive.

I know, I know, it doesn't seem like I'm waiting with any amount of patience at all. But, I am.

I love Chaos dearly, but he is SO ready for school to start. It's all he talks about.

Tomorrow there's an open house where we get to go an meet his teacher. I can't wait.

To think, in just one week I'll be able to clean the house without having to work around a child coloring on the floor!