Category Archives: Shopaholic Mama

How I Motivate To Clean My Closet (A List!)

It’s springtime, which means it’s time for some epic spring cleaning.  Every single room in my house could use an overhaul, but that’s overwhelming enough to propel me to pour a glass of wine instead of a mug of coffee at breakfast, therefore I’m compartmentalizing.  One room, one drawer, one cabinet, one train table (still no trains)…

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…at a time.

I really need to clean out my closet, as Dylan would say, “for real life.”  There’s a lot going on in there (imagine a corresponding sweeping hand gesture with a dash of sass).  The thing is, though, it isn’t an easy project to take on.

It requires some soul searching.  Do I need to keep the black J. Crew pantsuit I purchased back when Bill Clinton was President and before my hips permanently expanded as a result of growing actual human beings in my pelvic region?  We all know full well that if an appropriate occasion came along, I’d hit the mall faster than you can say Shopaholic Mama.

And reality checking.  These jeans are too tight.  I used to fit into these jeans.  They must’ve shrunk in the wash.  They just don’t make good quality clothing the way they used to!  Bugger.

Here’s a short list of how I (attempt to) motivate to clean out my closet:

1. Anxiety.  I’m still waiting on the results of my thyroid biopsy.  On top of that, today is the start of the fourth (long) full (long) day of spring break with my boys.  This type of scenario generally instigates cleaning/organizing with little to no effort.  In order to avoid the big, scary project (the closet), I started with something smaller – the spice cabinet in the kitchen.  There were spices in there that expired before I was married.

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Next, I tackled the top of the refrigerator.  Well, I didn’t actually clean it, but I did survey the situation and snap this picture:

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So that’s where I hid Elefun (a game that made my “Toys I Loathe” list)!  I suppose now that I’ve documented (exposed?) the chaos on the side of the refrigerator, I ought to do something about that, too.  Eh, maybe another day.

Then, I took out the trash and folded and put away some laundry.  The laundry bit was definitely procrastination because “folding and putting away” hardly ever happens.  I still haven’t started on the closet, but I will. At some point.  Eventually.

Here are some additional motivators to propel me into closet cleaning action.

2. Something is missing. Recently, I lost a pair of flip-flops.  My favorite pair!  Wait, maybe they were my only pair.  In any case, they were the ones that went with everything, or perhaps not, but I wore them every day anyway.  I looked and looked and looked, but couldn’t find them.  I blamed everyone who crossed my path, including the dog and especially my children.  I could’ve sworn I saw Dylan wearing them in the garage one afternoon, so I had a stern talk with both kids (so as not to favor one over the other) about respecting Mommy’s stuff, and then I held an inappropriate grudge for days.  I gave everyone in the house the evil eye while I fixated on the missing flip-flops.  Then, I found them.  In my closet.  (Apparently, this is where shoes belong.)  They were under a pile of poorly made jeans that must’ve shrunk in the wash.

3. I run out of hangers.  You would think a Shopaholic Mama such as myself would be thrilled to buy new hangers.  Target or, better yet, The Container Store, here I come!  The irony, though, is that as much as I love to buy stuff, I also get anxious when I have too much of it.  Thus, when the hangers run out, the game is over.  It’s time to downsize (or buy a bigger house with a bigger closet).

Editor’s note:  It’s futile to try to understand my logic.  I’m a normal and rational human being, but I’m also totally and completely insane.

4. Someone asks me if I’m pregnant.  And I’m not.  Ding ding ding!  Time to clean out the closet!  Nope, I’m not pregnant.  That’s just my belly, a—hole!  But thanks so much for asking!  My former pediatrician did this to me once.  (The key word here is “former.”)  Apparently, I didn’t lose the baby weight after Riley was born fast enough for his taste.  I was wearing a light grey, cotton, empire waist dress at the time of the incident.  It was one of my favorites, especially during the sweltering South Florida summer.

The bad news, besides the fact that I instantly despised our pediatrician, was that I had the same dress in black hanging in my closet at home.  Later that day, both of them went straight into the giveaway pile, which was (and still is) taking up a sizable amount of space in my disaster of a closet.  The good news was that I gained a couple of hangers.

Okay closet, here I come…  Yup… Soon… I can feel the motivation coming… Any day now…  Any minute…

How do you motivate to clean out your closet?

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Filed under anxiety, cleaning, list, Shopaholic Mama, shopping

Piece of Cake

I don’t remember having a lot of big birthday parties when I was a kid.  I was loved and celebrated, but my parents didn’t churn out party after party year after year.

I do remember one special birthday, though.  I was probably in the fourth or fifth grade (circa 1984-ish) when my parents planned a surprise birthday party for me.  To occupy me while my mom got everything ready, my dad took me to Sears to play with the cash registers.  (Yes, there was a time when Sears sold cash registers, and yes, it was weird that I liked to play with them.)

When I returned home, my house was filled with all of my friends.  I was truly surprised.  My parents (poor things) took us all to T.G.I. Friday’s for dinner, and my gift was one I’ll never forget – a drafting table.  I wanted to be an architect when I grew up, so it was the most bestest birthday present ever.

Alas, I never did become an architect.  Or did I…

An architect is a person trained and licensed crazy enough to plan, design, and oversee the construction development of buildings children.

– Wikipedia

I don’t know if it’s generational, geographic, cultural, or just a consequence of being a 21st century parent (i.e. a child pleaser), but birthday parties are a big deal.  I keep thinking each one is the last one, that next year we’ll simply take a few buddies to a movie or the zoo or we’ll have a small sleepover (gulp), but before my kids even blow out the candles at one party, they begin fantasizing about the next.  Dylan already has his seventh and eighth birthday parties mapped out (a Batman party at Chuck E. Cheese’s and a laser pool party – whatever that heck that is – at home).

Today is Riley’s birthday.  After opening a Transformers birthday card this morning, he said, “My next party will be a Transformers party.”  Duly noted.

The ironic thing about my desire to taper the birthday party madness is that I get wrapped up in planning and executing them.  Mike laughs at how many times I’ve rented tables and chairs for our backyard.  For Dylan’s fourth birthday, we had a bug party at home.

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That’s me holding a snake.  Ha!  (That party was awesome.)

Our biggest birthday party undertaking so far was definitely Dylan’s fifth birthday.  That’s when we hosted a “Cars 2” drive-in movie party in our backyard.  It. Was. Big.  (Literally.)  I thought it was going to be the last party for a while, which is why I let myself get so carried away.

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Then, of course, Dylan decided he wanted a bounce house party in the park for his sixth birthday.  Sure thing!  Last year, when Riley wanted his birthday party at My Gym (easy peasy lemon squeezy), I made an easy situation difficult by planning an elaborate brunch spread and researching bakeries all over Fort Lauderdale to come up with this one-of-a-kind butter cream dream…

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It was amazingly delicious (and amazingly expensive).

I have a funny way of making birthday parties difficult.  The multiple deliveries from Oriental Trading.  The trips back and forth to Party City.  The cake design.  The hours spent scouring Tiny Prints for invitations.  The online window-shopping at Etsy.com for party favors.  It’s ludicrous!

Until now.

I booked Riley’s fourth birthday party at a local indoor bounce house center.  In response to our 21st century parenting, these places are getting pretty savvy with birthdays.  I chose the “preferred” party package, which meant they supplied the party supplies and balloons (in whatever theme I wanted), and the food and drinks.  All I had to do was bring the cake.  That was it.

With nothing to obsess about (except what to wear), I did what any Shopaholic Mama would do, I found something to obsess about: overpriced but adorable superhero masks from Etsy.com.

Should I or shouldn’t I?

It took some careful thought (and rumination and fixation), but, in the end, I did.

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The party was awesome (including the masks), and it’s a true story that all I had to do was show up (and pay for it all with a credit card).  I don’t know what elaborate birthday parties our future holds, but this one was definitely a piece of (Spider-Man) cake.

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Editor’s note:  Happy Birthday, Riley!  Today, my sweet monkey, you are four.

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 What do you think about kids’ birthday parties?  Do you have one every year?

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Filed under birthday, Shopaholic Mama