I'm a control freak. I've got a minor case of OCD. No, I've never been diagnosed, I just know. I like things clean, orderly, and for the house to feel as if it is presentable to guests at any point in time. I believe that things should have a place and that is where they belong when not in use. I don't like toys everywhere if they are not being played with. I cringe when I see clothes and shoes on the floor. A messy kitchen with dirty dishes that are less than one foot away from the dishwasher makes me want to scream. Water rings on the glass tables drive me insane. I straighten napkins in the holder, remotes on the table, and religiously wipe things down with lysol. I vacuum every other day because I like the lines on the carpet.
My husband doesn't mind clutter at all and likes his stuff to be within arms reach and front and center where he can see it, beacuse if he has to move something to find it, it surely doesn't exist. He once lived out of a duffle bag, that the dog slept on, for a month. He doesn't mind water rings on the tables, cups randomly placed around the house, or things that are dusty, unless said things have been bought from Best Buy. My husband must have all of the newest man things - tvs, computers, and other blinking little gadgets, and I don't get it. For me, these man gadgets create a lot of dust and then, per his instructions, if I do dust his man gadgets, I must use special cloths and liquds to dust them with.
There are some things that I can overlook, I definitely don't make my bed everyday and I don't dust his man gadgets if I don't have too, but I feel as if my home is my sanctuary. I can be a bit of a homebody, so when things are out of place or suddenly change, I don't adapt well, if at all.
Last night, I walked into my house and I knew something was up. The air was just different, my husband had that look on his face, like he had done something sneaky. The thoughts in my head were running a mile a minute and went something like this...
I walked from the front door to the kitchen, I saw it - the office aka baby's room had been mostly cleared out. Fantastic! Now we can really begin to prepare for.... OH SHIT. Where the heck is the desk? And all of the office stuff? ohmygod,no!he!did!not!puttheentireofficeinourbedroom!wtf?!washethinking?
But yes, he did. My husband moved the office, executive desk and all, into our bedroom. And now, my bedroom feels like a dorm room. There are blinking lights from the router and the multiple external hard drives... and the cords, oh my dear lord, the cords...
I, in all of my OCD-control-freak-glory, did not take it well. As in, I stood in my bedroom and I basically said some %^$&# words followed immediately by tears and my husband just giggled a little and my child said, "Calm down, Mommy. Calm. Calm."
I asked if it was temporary, to which he replied, "Yes?!" I knew he was saying it just to pacify the moment and I glared at him with those crazy laser beam eyes that you see in all of the Sci-Fi flicks, and then I locked myself in my closet.
For him, this was the perfect solution, he has a tv and a computer in the bedroom and now he never has to walk more than 15 steps to do anything. But for me? It's a friggin' nightmare and I am seriously contemplating moving into the guest bedroom. I cannot move the furniture, I am almost six months pregnant and I can barely get my shoes on without asking for help. Overreacting? Possibly. But, the guest bedroom is peaceful, isn't filled with wall to wall furniture, and is sans blinking lights and cords.
*insert sarcasm font here*
Or wait, perhaps, the guest bedroom is the perfect place for an office? Ah, yes, that would be logical because it's not like we have guests every weekend. But, upstairs is just too far for a laptop to travel.
It's a man's world at our house this week. And I am not amused. I had to take tylenol pm last night in order to sleep because lights were flashing and shadows bouncing around on the walls and I thought the aliens were landing in my bedroom.
WAIT! Maybe they did. Maybe that's it. Maybe the aliens abducted my husband and made him do this terrible terrible thing...
My husband doesn't mind clutter at all and likes his stuff to be within arms reach and front and center where he can see it, beacuse if he has to move something to find it, it surely doesn't exist. He once lived out of a duffle bag, that the dog slept on, for a month. He doesn't mind water rings on the tables, cups randomly placed around the house, or things that are dusty, unless said things have been bought from Best Buy. My husband must have all of the newest man things - tvs, computers, and other blinking little gadgets, and I don't get it. For me, these man gadgets create a lot of dust and then, per his instructions, if I do dust his man gadgets, I must use special cloths and liquds to dust them with.
There are some things that I can overlook, I definitely don't make my bed everyday and I don't dust his man gadgets if I don't have too, but I feel as if my home is my sanctuary. I can be a bit of a homebody, so when things are out of place or suddenly change, I don't adapt well, if at all.
Last night, I walked into my house and I knew something was up. The air was just different, my husband had that look on his face, like he had done something sneaky. The thoughts in my head were running a mile a minute and went something like this...
I walked from the front door to the kitchen, I saw it - the office aka baby's room had been mostly cleared out. Fantastic! Now we can really begin to prepare for.... OH SHIT. Where the heck is the desk? And all of the office stuff? ohmygod,no!he!did!not!puttheentireofficeinourbedroom!wtf?!washethinking?
But yes, he did. My husband moved the office, executive desk and all, into our bedroom. And now, my bedroom feels like a dorm room. There are blinking lights from the router and the multiple external hard drives... and the cords, oh my dear lord, the cords...
I, in all of my OCD-control-freak-glory, did not take it well. As in, I stood in my bedroom and I basically said some %^$&# words followed immediately by tears and my husband just giggled a little and my child said, "Calm down, Mommy. Calm. Calm."
I asked if it was temporary, to which he replied, "Yes?!" I knew he was saying it just to pacify the moment and I glared at him with those crazy laser beam eyes that you see in all of the Sci-Fi flicks, and then I locked myself in my closet.
For him, this was the perfect solution, he has a tv and a computer in the bedroom and now he never has to walk more than 15 steps to do anything. But for me? It's a friggin' nightmare and I am seriously contemplating moving into the guest bedroom. I cannot move the furniture, I am almost six months pregnant and I can barely get my shoes on without asking for help. Overreacting? Possibly. But, the guest bedroom is peaceful, isn't filled with wall to wall furniture, and is sans blinking lights and cords.
*insert sarcasm font here*
Or wait, perhaps, the guest bedroom is the perfect place for an office? Ah, yes, that would be logical because it's not like we have guests every weekend. But, upstairs is just too far for a laptop to travel.
It's a man's world at our house this week. And I am not amused. I had to take tylenol pm last night in order to sleep because lights were flashing and shadows bouncing around on the walls and I thought the aliens were landing in my bedroom.
WAIT! Maybe they did. Maybe that's it. Maybe the aliens abducted my husband and made him do this terrible terrible thing...
