Me

The blog lately has been pretty much 100% Hazel. And it got me wondering whether I'll end up one of those moms who loses her identity because she's so wrapped up in her child's. I'm not sure...at this point I think it could go either way; I think more & more that it's just hard to predict how I will react to situations I've never been in before. Especially mom situations.

But I'm trying to stay away from mom topics in this blog entry...

So . . . um. ...yeah... It's pretty hard to switch gears & not talk about ANY mom things. But I'll try.

I have an Old Navy card. For those of you in the family, you know that this card is good at Gap, ON, Banana Republic, and Piper Lime. For every $100 I spend, I receive a $10 gift card in the mail. I also receive lots of great coupons. I have discovered something wonderful recently. I found out that I can redeem these online AND at the store. It's a flaw in the system! Super sneaky!!!

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I'd like to come out to the world now; I'm tired of living a lie. I am NOT a good housekeeper. And if you have an idea in your mind of what a bad housekeeper is, think of a worse one and that's probably more like me. In my opinion, the majority of my friends have immaculate homes. I would eat off their floors. (Well, really, I would eat off my own floor, but that's just because my threshold for grossness is higher than most -- thus, my bad housekeeping.) I try to pretend by picking up before people get here, but I know the really good housekeepers can see through it.

I realize that it's all relative. There are some out there that would consider me a good housekeeper. And in my own defense, 90% of the mess and grime is not my own. My husband is dirty & hairy. I should call him Dirty Harry. The dogs are also dirty & hairy. The cat has on his winter coat and leaves the evidence wherever he wants. And then there is the house itself, which is my nemesis.

The house is bad because it is old, and because there isn't a person who takes responsibility for its annual maintenance. (There's only so much I can do...) So there are holes from old age, and holes from woodpeckers -- invitations for squatters galore. Some previously loathed visitors include mice, chipmunks, squirrels & raccoons -- yes, all in my home. And now that it's cold I wonder if they'll be back.

But by far my least favorite are the Camel Crickets. Also known as Cellar Crickets, they love the humidity of basements and have formed a colony in our crawl space, which is adjacent to our basement in this split-level home. These boogers are creepy. They look more like grasshoppers, and they can jump as high as your head. Makes them really hard to kill. The creepiest thing about them is that they are always, always facing you. You never see one from the side or the back, you only ever see them from the front. When I do have the luck of getting one with the broom, the pleasure is almost... well, I'll keep this g-rated. It's quite a release because I have such a deep hatred for them.

The switch for our kitchen light has been out since we brought Hazel home from the hospital. I wish it would get fixed.

All of this & more gets under my skin & goes to my core. I wish I had a sweet maid named Mary or Bess or Helga that would just love on me and help me keep things neat. Even though tidyness is not the most important thing in the world to me, it would be quite a luxury. Helga is my Christmas wish to Santa. It would be so wonderful, so dreamy. But I suppose for now, my dust-free clutter-free bug-free home will have to stay in fictionland with Helga and Santa. Back to reality & my baby who just woke up...