Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Mayday! Mayday!

I really need to start going through my kids clothes. School starts in one week and I have no idea what fits my children. These children who have insisted on growing this summer in spite of my declaration in late May that there will be no growing because I do NOT want to go buy any more clothes. They never listen.

So here I am trying to find time with the Grandparents here, to do the dreaded "fashion show" that SugarPlum despises every year. I swear the child has grown three inches this summer. She is not a fashionista. As long as it is comfortable she will wear it. I should probably be thankful, but I'm not. She is forever griping about how something is itchy or tight or worst of all HOT. She is fairly opposed to sweaters. Which was fine in Texas. Not so much here in Ohio. So I am reeeaaalllly looking forward to that battle.

And shoes. How in the hell did we end up with so many freaking shoes in this house?! The girl wore only sneakers every day last year. They had PE every day and had to wear sneakers for it. She's not really into changing her shoes, so it was sneaks all day. I was very pleased that her N*kes lasted all year. This summer, she has rotated between her Teva$ and flip-flops. She actually has pool flip-flops and "dressy" flip-flops. (That phrase is almost offensive) My problem seems to be that we cannot get rid of the old shoes that don't fit. Several times, I have gotten them into a pile to eventually ship off to charity. Then SugarDaddy decides to pick up and they get put in with all of the rest of the shoes that we actually wear. And the wheel goes round and round.

And then we have the boys' clothes. There are Bear's clothes and Bug's clothes. Then there are the clothes that are too small for Bear but too big for Bug. Those get set aside with the intent to put them in a box out in the garage until Bug grows into them. Once again, they are somehow put into one drawer or another. Or, worst of all, they fall in the floor only to be scooped up and placed in the laundry pile and enter the endless cycle of wash, fold, stack, lather, rinse, repeat.

This has got to stop. If anyone out there is one of those professional organizers, I beseech you -come save me from myself! This is falling down around me. I haven't even told you about my bedroom, because the shame is overwhelming. Suffice to say that it leaves me little leverage in the "clean your room" war. If I don't answer, come on in and look under a pile. I'm here somewhere.

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