10-Folder Pile up: Paperwork is my Nemesis

They’re stacking up again.  The piles.  Do you have them at your house?  Receipts, kids’ graded papers, overdue library notices, bills, coupons, meeting notes.  And I think I would rather eat glass then file it all.

Make that – I’d rather write, take a run, play "Go Fish" with me wee one, or do just about anything then file paperwork.  Maybe even clean the toilets.  OK – that might be overstating it.

In any event, this is an area of my life I haven’t yet mastered.  My penchant for piles has gotten me in plenty of trouble.   But it’s not like my habits have landed me on the latest episode of TLC’s, Hoarding.  It’s just that, well, the zillion pieces of paper that find their way into my house pile up.  Fast.

And then I get overwhelmed.  And suddenly, something else requires my immediate attention.  Such as cleaning the toilets.  

This problem with piles creates, er, some tension in my marriage.  I married a guy who has a serious appreciation for bare counter-tops.  I'm sure on some subliminal level I needed someone who would help me stay on track.  I’m cool with a little clutter, creative person that I am.  I decided I needed to do something. 

So I called in an expert.  In this case, one of my closest friends.  She’s the queen of organization, and even though  I’d have no problem sharing a dressing room with her, baring my jiggling underarms – I admit the thought of her seeing my littered office made me nervous. Like showing a Victoria's Secret model my underwear drawer.  I can't compete!

But like two sisters in a dressing room, my sweet pal graciously ignored my obvious flaws, and together, we sat crossed-legged as she created my brand new easy-to-maintain filing system.  (She swears!) She brought labeled red files and lunch, and we giggled and talked as we sifted piles, me baring my soul.  I thought it was hilarious when she asked which way I preferred my files to face.  Um, Jen, those things might keep you up at night, God love you, but I’m thrilled they're not just sticking out from every crevice in and around my desk.  Cleaning it all up felt so. good.

Hubby, I think we’re going to make it. 

It wasn’t nearly as bad as eating glass. Or cleaning toilets. 

As for maintaining my brand spanking new files, I was a bit anxious when Jen left me alone with them, like a mother with a new baby.  I can do this, I coached myself.  But they better not keep me up at night!   

What about you?  Do you love paperwork, or hate it?  Got any tips to share or stories to tell?  Chime in.  Make a comment, and make my day.  (If you want Jen’s number, I’m willing to share her.  She has her own business, The Space of Life, where she helps the waywardly disorganized contemplate exactly where paper clips are stored, or why they don't own paper clips in the first place.)

If Chivalry is Dead, I don’t want to Live!

I know.  That was a little dramatic.  But here's the truth about this very independently-minded woman.   I want my husband to open the door for me on the way in to the restaurant.  When my car breaks down, I want him to drop everything and come to my rescue.  I want him to remain the knight-in-shining-armor I married - at least on occasion!  

This isn't because I’m a helpless damsel in distress.  I'm a capable, get-my-hands-dirty kind of girl.   High maintenance, I'm not.  But I want my man to show me those little gestures that won me over back when I enjoyed that glorious "girlfriend" status.   Doors opened!  Windshields scraped!  Tires inflated!  Girlfriends have the life.

I know this is what you might call having your cake and eating it too - at least that’s what some guys have said on this subject.  Because I admit it - I do want it all.  I want to be treated as an equal by men in general.  But I’m not sure we all agree on the definition of equality.

To me, equality means each human on earth has intrinsic value and potential.  It doesn’t mean I have to beat a guy at tennis or wield a pick-ax to prove my worth.  I try not to generalize any of us.  Some guys are pros at swaddling and soothing babies; some women can knock down raging fires right alongside those swarthy, strapping firemen.  (Not that I ever think about swarthy, strapping firemen, mind you!!)  But I believe men and women were created for different purposes - with different strengths to bring to the table.  Where would we be without each other?

So when hubby jumped down a ledge during a hike last week, I wanted him to turn around and offer me a hand down.  He didn’t.  Not that he’s a bad guy – and I don’t want to throw him under the bus.  He's always been my hero when it really mattered.  And no - I didn’t necessarily need his help.  But I wanted him to ask.  For me, chivalry is more about manners.  When my husband - or anyone for that matter - opens a door for me, it’s a courtesy, and I love it.   But I've always been kind of a sucker that way!

True - the practice of chivalry claims origins in knighthood.  But we can adapt some of its original code of gallantry to today’s complex world of gender politics. I don’t think its contemporary practice implies a woman needs a man to drive her car, put his jacket over a menacing puddle or lift her from a life of drudgery.  Today, chivalry translates into sheer politeness.  Sometimes heart-stopping valor.  We need some more of that in the world, if you ask me.  

Even if they rule the boardroom, I'm betting most women - single ladies and wives alike - love some tender cherishing once they kick off their heels.  (And a man who practices chivalry can often inspire his wife to shed more than her shoes.  Just saying!) 

What do you think?  Is it too confusing to guys to ask for chivalry and equality at once?  Is chivalry really dead – an antiquated notion?  What do guys really want?  My inquiring mind needs to know.

Share your perspective with me.  Meantime, I'm getting some cake.  And I plan to eat it, too.

John 15:13
Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. (NIV)

Dinner for Breakfast

This morning: got out the frying pan to whip up some eggs for my brood to sustain them for another 8 hours of hard time at school.  Then, started thinking about dinner.  Even before I cracked the eggs!

This is what it means to be a wife and mother – when you’re blessed enough to have plenty of food in the fridge.  I don’t take it for granted- there are so many who don’t. 

It's true, you’ve come a long way, mama.  You can forge a career, rock the Mompreneur route, stay home and create a haven or work part- time while juggling your darlings.  Motherhood's evolved, and we've got plenty of choices - thanks to our own mothers, who endured the days of shoulder pads as they eked their way into a man's world. 

Still.

One responsibility hasn’t changed much in motherhood – at least here at my house.  A big part of my job is feeding the masses.  Food consumes my thoughts constantly – and not because I actually get to eat it piping hot.  No, it’s because the many tummies in my house are a demanding lot.  And it’s up to me to sustain my brood, which means I can barely eat one meal without thinking about the next!

Now - I can hear hubby, reminding me he does plenty of the cooking around here on weekends.  It’s true, and I’m a lucky gal.  Seriously, when I declare there is nothing to eat and we simply must go out, he whips up a beautiful seafood souflee with all the trimmings.  He’s that good.  (Don’t be jealous ladies.  He has plenty of other flaws, just like your man.)

Still, it’s up to mama to make sure the fridge is chock full of snacks, lunchbox fare, breakfast cereals, after-school munchies and ingredients for those yummy, healthy and cost-effective meals I have to generate during the weekdays.  So I live at the neighborhood grocery store, where “everybody knows my name….” 

I mean, they greet me constantly from the moment I walk in! I wish the managers thought I was a hot ticket, but I think they’re just thinking, “cha-ching!”

I like going to the grocery store.  As a mom, it might be the only time someone might appreciate me all day. When the guys at Safeway ask if they can show me the aisle where I can find said ingredient for linguine and clam sauce, I let them.  A girl's got to get her decadence where she can.

So - I make lists, cut coupons (OK, not that often), take requests, shop for groceries, store them away, cut them up, fry ‘em up, put in front of my family, register their complaints, engage in high level negotiations for required number of bites, then, supervise clearing, scraping, loading and scrubbing.   Done.  For now.

Then, I wake up, take out the eggs, and think about dinner.  Sigh.  I think I'll just swing by Safeway ...

If you enjoyed this post; please sign up to subscribe via email. (See below) Or visit my professional FaceBook page and click, "Like."  https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Diane-Meehl-Content-Queen/177628838953207


Even better, make a comment and share your thoughts!!