I can't believe the summer is almost over. It makes me sad. I love having my kids home. We've accomplished a lot this summer.
We cleaned out, purged, repainted, and moved kids into different bedrooms. I love having clean bedrooms. I didn't repaint my bedroom, but I cleaned it out. Surprisingly, I eat a lot of granola bars and fruit treats, play with a lot of toys, drink a lot of water bottles, and wear a lot of small socks and underwear, at least that's what I found under my bed. My room seems to be the most popular room in the house and my kids hang out in it all the time.
I also purged my linen closet of old towels and blankets. I think some of those towels I'd gotten as wedding gifts--yeah, it was way past time to purge. I cleaned out our utility closet and all my kitchen cabinets and our china hutch. I've donated lots of items and thrown away others. I think we've been through every room in the house now and it feels wonderful!!!
Now to keep it up and not allow the mess to build up again.
Showing posts with label Cleaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cleaning. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Monday, October 20, 2008
I Lost a Talent
I have very few talents. I don't sing, dance, act, or sew. I'm not very crafty and I don't score high on the compassionate scale. I don't draw, paint, or write music. I don't play an instrument and while I played sports in high school, I wasn't amazing (I was good at basketball because I was tall, not because I could jump). But, I do pride myself on knowing how to change a poopy diaper, wipe boogers off my children (and the wall), and clean my house. Apparently, the cleaning house part isn't a talent after all, or so I was told.
Let me see if you can answer this question. What is more annoying than a vacuum salesman?
Any guesses?
Answer: Nothing.
Let me start at the beginning. A company called a few weeks ago and asked me to take a short consumer survey. I agreed and answered several simple questions. The next week, a representative from the same company called to say that because I'd answered the survey, my name was entered into a drawing and I'd won a $500 gift certificate to an online store (with Christmas around the corner, I thought this sounded like a good thing). The rep then told me that in order to redeem said certificate I had to participate in a presentation about an air purifier and share my opinion about the product. I was assured that it involved no sales whatsoever, and all I needed to do was answer some questions about the product after a short 30 minute presentation.
Since we have allergies, I'd considered buying an air purifier and was interested to see what this company produced so I agreed.
The salesman arrived with two large boxes. I asked him to do the presentation in the library but he insisted on going into the living room. Strike one.
He pulled out the "air purifier" that freakishly resembled a vacuum cleaner. Oh, because it was a vacuum cleaner. Now, I don't know about you, but when a company lies to me about the product they're selling, it's a big "no go" for me. Strike two.
He continued on with his presentation telling me multiple times that my house was filthy and nasty and I obviously didn't know how dirty it was. (So, you see, my cleaning talent flew right out the window). He told us how I was putting my family's health in danger and destroying our carpet (well, he did have to change his tactic to include hardwood because we have no carpet on the middle level). After 2 HOURS (sorry, didn't mean to yell, but really, 2 hours, during bedtime, come on) he gave us the high pressure sales technique designed to guilt us into buying a $3000 vacuum cleaner. Seriously. Strike three.
We finally convinced him that though we have several thousands, possibly even millions of dollars lying (or is it laying) around the house, we would prefer to sink that extra money into the Rolls Royce we're planning to purchase. He was visibly unhappy with our choice to pass on this exceptional deal.
He did give us our certificate and, surprise, when we went to redeem it, we found out that, indeed, we must pay a "shipping and handling fee" for each product. Now maybe I was born at night, but it wasn't last night and when the shipping and handling fees far exceed the value of the item, I become ever so slightly suspicious and greatly annoyed.
This company lied to get a salesman in my house. They misrepresented the product. The product seemed to be decent enough, but $3000? With the cost of living so high at the moment? Come on. Then the whole gift certificate was a total sham.
So beware of phone callers who claim to just want to conduct a short consumer survey. Before you know it, you may be subjected to losing your very last talent!
Let me see if you can answer this question. What is more annoying than a vacuum salesman?
Any guesses?
Answer: Nothing.
Let me start at the beginning. A company called a few weeks ago and asked me to take a short consumer survey. I agreed and answered several simple questions. The next week, a representative from the same company called to say that because I'd answered the survey, my name was entered into a drawing and I'd won a $500 gift certificate to an online store (with Christmas around the corner, I thought this sounded like a good thing). The rep then told me that in order to redeem said certificate I had to participate in a presentation about an air purifier and share my opinion about the product. I was assured that it involved no sales whatsoever, and all I needed to do was answer some questions about the product after a short 30 minute presentation.
Since we have allergies, I'd considered buying an air purifier and was interested to see what this company produced so I agreed.
The salesman arrived with two large boxes. I asked him to do the presentation in the library but he insisted on going into the living room. Strike one.
He pulled out the "air purifier" that freakishly resembled a vacuum cleaner. Oh, because it was a vacuum cleaner. Now, I don't know about you, but when a company lies to me about the product they're selling, it's a big "no go" for me. Strike two.
He continued on with his presentation telling me multiple times that my house was filthy and nasty and I obviously didn't know how dirty it was. (So, you see, my cleaning talent flew right out the window). He told us how I was putting my family's health in danger and destroying our carpet (well, he did have to change his tactic to include hardwood because we have no carpet on the middle level). After 2 HOURS (sorry, didn't mean to yell, but really, 2 hours, during bedtime, come on) he gave us the high pressure sales technique designed to guilt us into buying a $3000 vacuum cleaner. Seriously. Strike three.
We finally convinced him that though we have several thousands, possibly even millions of dollars lying (or is it laying) around the house, we would prefer to sink that extra money into the Rolls Royce we're planning to purchase. He was visibly unhappy with our choice to pass on this exceptional deal.
He did give us our certificate and, surprise, when we went to redeem it, we found out that, indeed, we must pay a "shipping and handling fee" for each product. Now maybe I was born at night, but it wasn't last night and when the shipping and handling fees far exceed the value of the item, I become ever so slightly suspicious and greatly annoyed.
This company lied to get a salesman in my house. They misrepresented the product. The product seemed to be decent enough, but $3000? With the cost of living so high at the moment? Come on. Then the whole gift certificate was a total sham.
So beware of phone callers who claim to just want to conduct a short consumer survey. Before you know it, you may be subjected to losing your very last talent!
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Writers Write
Since I have a large family, a constant thread of discussion is always on cleaning bedrooms. Apparently, my definition of a clean bedroom is far different from my children's. I'd like to see the carpet occasionally. I'd like to go to the closet and see the clothes hanging from the rod instead of jumbled into a ball on the floor. I'd like to know that we're not growing our own version of penicillin under the bed. I don't insist that the vacuum marks all align in the same direction or that the windows are so clear birds might fly through them. I don't demand that the walls are completely smudge free or that the pillows are fluffed to a certain state of fluffiness. I merely ask that when I walk by the bedroom I don't shudder and feel an uncontrollable urge to vomit.
We were having another discussion this morning about how I wanted the rooms to be cleaned since we start school next week. (We all know it'd be so much easier for me to simply clean their rooms and be done with it, but what would that teach them?) After our discussion followed several smaller talks with individual kids about how he/she would fold clothes, place blankets in a certain place, line up shoes on the shelf, display only important items on the dressers, organize Legos, and general plans for the room. All of these were great ideas. It was wonderful to discuss their plans and see that they were thinking about their rooms and how to make them function more efficiently. It was effective to bounce ideas around and ask for advice. It helped to make the cleaning seem like it was manageable until . . . . it came time for the actual work. We'd done so much talking and planning, yet, nothing was accomplished. The rooms are still messy and my kids are still talking about how they plan to clean. I keep reminding them that all the talking in the world won't make up for not following through with the work.
And so it is with writing. We can talk about it, think about it, plan it, read about how to do it, and otherwise involve ourselves, but until we actually tackle the work and accomplish what we've planned, it isn't truly writing. Someone has said, "Writing is writing." The process of sitting down, creating stories, revising, reworking, rewriting, and continuing the process until we have a finished product that satisfies us is writing. Hundreds, probably thousands, of books have been written on writing and these books certainly serve a purpose, but it's the writing that has to be the priority. We learn best from doing because . . . writers write.
We were having another discussion this morning about how I wanted the rooms to be cleaned since we start school next week. (We all know it'd be so much easier for me to simply clean their rooms and be done with it, but what would that teach them?) After our discussion followed several smaller talks with individual kids about how he/she would fold clothes, place blankets in a certain place, line up shoes on the shelf, display only important items on the dressers, organize Legos, and general plans for the room. All of these were great ideas. It was wonderful to discuss their plans and see that they were thinking about their rooms and how to make them function more efficiently. It was effective to bounce ideas around and ask for advice. It helped to make the cleaning seem like it was manageable until . . . . it came time for the actual work. We'd done so much talking and planning, yet, nothing was accomplished. The rooms are still messy and my kids are still talking about how they plan to clean. I keep reminding them that all the talking in the world won't make up for not following through with the work.
And so it is with writing. We can talk about it, think about it, plan it, read about how to do it, and otherwise involve ourselves, but until we actually tackle the work and accomplish what we've planned, it isn't truly writing. Someone has said, "Writing is writing." The process of sitting down, creating stories, revising, reworking, rewriting, and continuing the process until we have a finished product that satisfies us is writing. Hundreds, probably thousands, of books have been written on writing and these books certainly serve a purpose, but it's the writing that has to be the priority. We learn best from doing because . . . writers write.
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