From The Tiny House Files: Suffering Rejection

I know, it sounds earth shattering. Perhaps we are all wallowing in the depths of despair here in the tiny house. The teeny tiny house. The teensy weensie, itty bitty house with all the people.

Here's the scenario : A mom approaches me, anxious to set up play dates with her marvelous munchkin and mine.
Here's the conversation. Almost verbatim, every time:
Her: Hi! You must be (kid's name) Mom! I'm Boy's mom. How nice to meet you!

Me: Hi! It's good to meet you, too. Kid talks about Boy often. They seem to be getting along nicely.

Her: I'd love to set up play dates for Kid and Boy. When works best for you? We can chat over cofee while Kid and Boy play. My other boy will be busy with his whatever during that time.

Me: Oh, that sounds lovely! I would probably have to skip the convo and coffee, though, and drop Kid off for the play date. I have six more children to care for.

Her: Oh. Oh my. Oh, well, um, maybe we can come to your house for a play date!

Me: Ok. That sounds fine. It is January and it's been raining for days on end. Since the outdoors is a large mud slick, we will all eleven of us be inside our one thousand square foot house.  I'm sure the children will have fun with board games, and we can still have that cup of coffee.

Her: Oh. I see. Well, um. Sure! Ok. Um, I'll be in touch!

Me: *never hearing from Her again

I'm not kidding. This has happened three times this school year all ready. I'm not looking for people to feel sorry for us.
And, yes, sometimes I am relieved when people don't come over, because, hey, we live in our house.
It's cluttery and messy most of the time.

There are moms that ask me all of the time "How do you do it all?"  These moms tell me about hey they have to leave their children in the care of someone else at school (we are supposed to be onsite with our children that are under the age of 12) so that they can just 'run home real quick and run the vacuum and dust' because that is absolutely the only time they can get it done, and 'Wow! I only have three!'.

Okay. When I had our fourth baby, I had just quit working outside the home, and the older ones were at school. Our has was pretty sparkly clean for about two years. Then came babies Five, Six, and Seven.  Now we keep it organized enough to function, clean enough to keep from getting sick, and tidy enough to keep from breaking legs tripping over things.

When there are seven children, there is a lot of time spent on correction and discipline.  Sure, the children all have chores. BUT. Most of them still need to be supervised, or are in training learning new chores.
It isn't as though I have seven little minions whistling while they work and I am humming a merry tune twirling my skirts in the midst of all the happy chore joy.

We have changed our decorating style from cute little things that people gave us for wedding gifts cleverly displayed to shelves up every wall possible, cramming things as attractively as possible in every little niche available.  It's all about function. It isn't pretty.  Lots of things just don't have a home. If it's something that is being used temporarily, it's home is probably on top of the printer on the kitchen counter.

People don't like this. It makes them uncomfortable. It seems to them that I am a lackadaisical housekeeper.

I guess I am. If my children's upbringing is more important to me than having a home that others approve of.

So, my children have to deal with having their siblings as their closest and best friends. There can't be anything wrong with that.

I mean, who else will stay your friend after you let rip some raunchy gas during a board game?

Happy Chinese New Year!

I cleaned my shower today.
Yes. This is not only note worthy, but blog worthy as well.
My shower gets cleaned on the quarter year. I know. I KNOW!
My shower surround is textured. It has little, bitty, teeny, tiny, pinpoint dimples over the ENTIRE surface.
I'm not kidding.
Cleaning this shower isn't as simple as using a squeegie, or even a rag. One absolutely must use a powdered scouring cleanser and a brush. Every single time.
Then there's the floor. There are little raised circles all over the floor. They are very close together. It provides a nice non-slip surface. It also provides a perfect 1/8" high circular wall every 1/16" of an inch for mildew to climb. And it does. Fast. The floor gets cleaned more often then the surround, just in case you were judging me. Again.
I know a man chose these materials. He also used the same thing on the countertops in the kitchen and around the bathroom sinks.
It was obviously a man, because a woman would have known upon seeing such evil surfacing materials, that they would be difficult to keep clean.  A woman wouldn't have chosen such monstrosities. In fact, I am certain that not only did a man choose these materials for my house, it was also a man that designed them.
Men, I know you have a lot to think about. Right? I know you do. Mr. TheZoo is a thinker, so I'm guessing it applies across the board.
Think about these details, please.  I have ungodly thoughts about the man that put our shower surround in. I do. In my mind, I use words that I don't use out loud in a silent, one-way conversation with this man.
*Sigh* So now it's clean.
I do realize that this is February. It isn't a quarter through the year yet.
A friend told me that tomorrow is Chinese New Year. She is opening doors and windows and sweeping tomorrow to get rid of last year's bad luck.
I'm hoping that since I opened the door and window in the bathroom and scrubbed until the bone and muscle in my arms were reduced to jelly, that I rinsed all of last year's bad luck down the drain.
I'm hoping Mr.TheZoo will see this post today and bring me a box of Whoppers and a movie.
He'll have to feed me the whoppers, though, since I no longer have the use of my arms.