Domestic Underachievement and the Art of Procrastination

The only way my floors get vacuumed. Child Labor.

I’m getting really good at this housework thing. I’ve been a “stay-at-home” parent for nearly eleven years now and I think I finally have it down.

Sometimes. A few days a week, maybe. The rest of my time I’m scattered, unorganized and in the middle of five tasks, finishing none. Yes, I do have ADHD, why do you ask?

Want a glimpse of my typical day? No? Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway, because I’m awesome like that: My typical day begins with me restarting the never ending pile, Mt. Washmore.

I stumble down three flights of stairs, realize there’s been a load in the washer for two days, rewash it, find damp stuff in the dryer, hang it on the line and then stumble upstairs…

Where I find the younger child has wet the bed. And after I get the kids  off to school I stumble back down the stairs with the wet sheets in hand, only to find I left the detergent on top of the washer, which apparently was out of balance, given the 96 gallons of detergent spilled all over the laundry room floor.

Along with the fact that the washer has also walked itself out from the wall, the hose pulled out of the laundry sink and there’s also a load’s worth of water on the floor. With the 96 loads of liquid concentrated HE laundry detergent. You know, it’s like flushing $20 down the toilet! Except not as much fun, because then the mess needs to be cleaned up.

Then I stumble upstairs. I let the dogs out. I let them in. I let them out. I let them in. I let them out again. I begin wondering if my dogs have ADHD (the answer is yes). I go from room to room picking up the toys and shoes and crumbs. I begin to think that Hansel and Gretl live in my house, judging by the trail of crumbs I find. Then I’m so distracted and off track at this point, I forget about the laundry mess. And since I didn’t turn the light back on before I go down there, I forget and step in it. And slip and fall on my ample posterior.

Suddenly it’s lunch time. I have no food, since I was supposed to go food shopping and got sidetracked by dogs and laundry. I venture out, list in hand (tangent: Thank goodness for smart phones and notepad apps. Just sayin’) and head to the grocery. Only I can’t go to just one store, I visit five or six stores and it could take me two days to grocery shop. Two words: FOOD ALLERGIES. I hit a few stores and forget just about everything on my list because I never put it on the list. I meant to and put it off until later. It’s later. It’s still not on my list. Procrastination for the win!

I go home to let the dogs out, switch over the laundry, let the dogs in, eat, let the dogs out, collect the mail,  and suddenly realize I forgot to bring the groceries in from the car. It’s only a problem if you pay $5 per loaf of fancy-schmancy wheat and dairy free bread. Which of course I do. I Put the groceries away before the husband calls, asking what’s for dinner. Which is when I realize I never picked up food for dinner. I head back out, get something for dinner and realize I never let the dogs back in. Whoopsy.

I head home and let them in. They give me stink eye. I start dinner, the kids get home, I go through school bags, get snacks and get homework started. I switch the laundry over, let the dogs out and find that my son is missing, naked and two yards down. I get him back home, go in to stir dinner, go back outside and my son is naked, missing and two yards down. I make him come inside, check my older son’s homework and discover the younger has escaped yet again and is now naked and jumping on the trampoline. I give up on his clothes at that point.

The husband arrives from work and suddenly I remember I forgot about dinner. It’s slightly well done. And then he asks, “What did you do all day?” Which is when I remember about the mess on the laundry room floor…

And people wonder why I’m stressed out.