Some of you smarties have already found my reviews blog, which is so new it doesn’t even have any reviews in it yet. I will not blame you one bit if you don’t read it ever at all—I read VERY FEW review blogs myself. (I do read Live Well Spend Well because WHO CAN RESIST?)

I had SUCH a productive weekend. Yesterday I bought Elizabeth a bed frame I’d been considering for a few weeks at a consignment shop. It’s painted white, and I think it’s very OLD, and it was $82 which seemed like a lot of money until I went to a few furniture stores to look at new twin bed frames and HOLY CRAP, so this weekend I went and bought it and brought it home.

I needed it because we’re rearranging the kids. Right now it’s William and Edward (bunk beds) and Henry (crib) in the biggest bedroom, and Elizabeth and Rob each in one of the two smallest bedrooms. But Rob doesn’t want to sleep by himself, and we were going to need to rearrange anyway when Henry went into a Big Kid Bed, so now Edward will be in a bunk bed with Rob and William will be in a bunk bed with Henry. But—Elizabeth’s bed is really one of a set of bunk beds, so to reclaim it we had to buy a new single bed, and we also needed to buy a mattress because Henry will be in a twin bed instead of a crib. Are you following all this?

So yesterday I bought the frame I’d been dithering about. And today I went out and bought a mattress, and I did it with very little fuss: went in, listened dutifully to the nice salesperson, bought the mattress that cost what I’d had in mind. I can go pick it up on Tuesday.

That went so well, I stopped on the way home at the consignment shop again, to look again at a little phone chair (a combination chair and endtable) I’d seen when I bought the bed frame. I had thought of it several times and thought I would buy it, but when I went back and tried it out, it was so uncomfortable there was no way. But while I was there, why not do a little browsing? And that’s how I came home with two bureaus.

Then I did my Tidying Task for the weekend, which was going through our Massive Collection of children’s books. I bought a lot of these when Rob was a toddler and wanted a lot of books read to him and I felt I would GO MAD if I didn’t have new material. I bought most of them at library book sales, where the books are 50c each or 3/$1 and the librarians seem to have very poor counting skills because they’ve known me since I was 8.

Until recently, I was thinking, “If I like the book, or if any of the kids like it, I should keep it.” But today I was thinking, “We get fresh books from the library every week anyway, so why are we storing so many books HERE?” Still, this was a first sweep: if I had any doubt, I kept the book. Here are my results in the four—FOUR—areas of the house where we keep children’s books:

Area 1, the downstairs playroom, top shelf only, Before

Area 1, the downstairs playroom, top shelf only, After

Area 2, Rob’s room, Before

Area 2, Rob’s room, After

Area 3, upstairs playroom, Before

Area 3, upstairs playroom, After

Area 4, Elizabeth’s room, Before

Area 4, Elizabeth’s room, After

The books we’re donating to the library—plus there’s another half-full diaper box I had upstairs already and didn’t want to bring down just for a photo:

Look! It’s Niestle wearing the Swistle Skirt Icon!

Last night I got dinner and pajamas done early and went to Target shortly after Paul got home from work because OMG EVERYONE TALKING AT ME ALL DAY LONG AND ALSO FIGHTING AND SCREAMING AND KNOCKING THINGS OVER.

I found SUCH a haul. And shut UP, Jane, I AM TOO decluttering.

Wall-E comforters, not particularly exciting to ME since I prefer the nice-even-for-adults comforters I bought long ago that never get used because they’re too hard to wash if they get peed on, but Rob and William lovvvvvvvvve Wall-E and think he is the cutest! ever! and the comforters are cheap and thin so maybe they’ll fit in the washing machine. Anyway, they were 75% off, so $7-something each and worth the no-doubt temporary thrill.

Unders, 50% off. I bought a few packs, and I’ll buy more if they go to 75% off.

My co-aunt bought this shirt for our co-niece, and it is such a cute shirt you can not even believe it. So I bought it for Elizabeth too, so she and her cousin can match. It was $6 on sale down from $7, and it was the last one in 5T.

Two rugs to put in the mud room. One for wiping boots (foreground) and one for….stepping on and looking pretty (midground). (The light one with rings on it in the background was part of the household already.) 75% off, so the boot mat was $5 and the runner was $15 (doesn’t $60 seem a little high for a 2×5 Target runner? Maybe that’s why it was on clearance).

These Qubemates things are also for the mudroom, for backpacks and instruments and mittens and lunch boxes and homework and things. We need a system that can work for two kids, then four kids, then five kids, then back down the ladder until it’s only one kid, and it would be nice if it were a system that could then be broken up later and used in other parts of the household. So I chose this system, where the pieces fit together and you can get a unit with an adjustable/removable shelf, or with a door, or with two drawers.

But OMG expensive! My plan was to wait for them to go on sale, and buy a unit or two each time, because the shelf one is the cheapest and those are $25 EACH, and the other kinds are $30 and $35 but I forget which is which. I guess the drawers must be the most expensive. Last night when I went, Target had run out of a sale item and was offering an instant substitute of the Qubemate with a shelf, so I bought four of them at $16.24 each. That was still wicked expensive to lay that kind of money down in a chunk, but it was $35 less than they would have been at regular price.

Pencil cases and mechanical pencils for later in the year when someone loses one. 75% off.

Cloth napkins for care packages, 75% off. One set is Simply Shabby Chic and has lace edges la-di-dah. The other set is the Target Home brand and I like the aqua color.

Pretty bins! I think fabric-covered bins are kind of dumb because they’re impossible to clean, but they’re so! pretty!, and they were 75% off, and I love them.

This is the correct way to eat Sugar Babies:

1. Put one Sugar Baby in mouth. Chew until integrity of jellybean-like exterior/interior is lost, and the graininess has become prominent—roughly 10-15 chews.

2. Introduce a second Sugar Baby. It will take fewer chews for the mixture to be predominantly grainy again. Chew until the feeling is less “chewing on yummy grainy candy” and more “can’t get a grip with teeth and will need to swallow it soon”—roughly 25-30 additional chews. Add another Sugar Baby.

3. Continue in this manner until either the jaw or the palate desires a break, at which point cease adding Sugar Babies and swallow when natural to do so.

4. Rest. Use tongue to discover and remove small Sugar Baby deposits from teeth.

5. When ready, resume with step 1.

Just like last time, I am finding it challenging to write a post that doesn’t look bad next to a Dead Cat post. In fact, I LOOKED UP what I did last time because I was hoping it would be an idea I could use again. But no: last time I wrote MORE about the dead cat, and then I wrote about my mother-in-law. Ack. She’s coming in less than two weeks, and I don’t want to talk about it this time.

Oh, how about a little Tidying Update? I got rid of all the rest of my dolls. Remember I had something like eighteen of them plus tons of clothes, and I went through and got rid of about half of it, and this time I went through and got rid of all the rest, keeping aside only a few outfits for Elizabeth’s doll. I tried to keep a selection with high play-value: one snow outfit, one swim suit, one set of pajamas, one hospital johnny, several pretty dresses, several basic play outfits. The dolls and outfits I got rid of are going to one of my mom’s friends who arranges to give dolls to kids who are in bad situations (in a shelter for abused women/children, lost all their things to a fire, etc.).

This was one of my most massive declutters, so it’s too bad all that stuff was just in the basement: it does free up a ton of basement storage, but it doesn’t make the living area look different/better. It was four large Rubbermaid bins, plus a three-drawered unit. Now it fits in one small Sterilite bin (except for the doll). There’s a little space left in the bin, so I’m thinking “bin-full” will be our doll clothing limit: if the bin is full and we want another doll outfit, we have to get rid of something first.

I should have posed this so it looked more impressive, rather than stacking the bins (only three of them) in a small-looking pile. Well, anyway, those are three of the four Rubbermaid bins and the three-drawer unit in the background, showing the former Doll Territory; and in the foreground, the one doll (Elizabeth’s—not one of mine) and her small bin of clothes.

I had a decluttering DREAM where I was throwing out a bunch of candles and feeling happy about it, so then when I got up I DID throw away some candles. But I got muddled because I do want SOME candles in case of power outage, but the ones that would be best for that (contained in jars) are scented, and scented is not so nice hour after hour. But does this mean I should keep the unscented one shaped like a rabbit? How about the unscented one shaped like a pumpkin? Maybe I should buy candles specifically for a power outage and get rid of all the others? Tidy People, advise!

I’m sorry to say I have more sad cat news.

On Friday evening, I was heading upstairs after tucking the kids in, and our cat Louis (YES, I am giving a CAT a pseudonym, and I realize that’s a little paranoid, but dudes, I write frankly about my mother-in-law here) (his real name is 01iver) was curled up on the carpet at the bottom of the stairs, which is highly unusual but he looked comfy so whatever. I paused to pet him, and he stood up to get harder pettings but he wasn’t standing on one of his back legs. I carried him up the stairs to get a closer look and saw he had a bunch of scrapes and bites. I sighed, because he is TOO OLD to keep getting in cat fights, but he does it like once a week.

I tried to clean the two little matted/bloody spots on his leg, but he didn’t like the look of the sink so I gave up. We settled him into the shoebox he likes in the computer room and he seemed fine—purring and squeezing his eyes and going to sleep.

In the morning, he was still there—and he ALWAYS sleeps on our bed, with in fact annoying persistence, so that was weird, but you know cats: weird. Paul picked him up and he mrowwwwwwwwwed so Paul put him down again, and we could see he still wouldn’t put weight on his leg.

I felt like a dork calling the vet on a Saturday morning (their urgent-care hours) for what was probably going to be “Uh huh, yes, this cat’s diagnosis is ‘owies’ and ‘too old for this crap’,” but…well, since Georgie, I’ve been a little more skittish about the cats.

And here I would like to make a long story shorter by saying that Louis’s leg was shattered. Shattered. The vet thinks he was probably hit by a car. She gave him a huge dose of painkillers right away. And then she told me my options, and for a 15-year-old cat there was really only one good option, and yet there were officially other options and it feels bad to say, “No, I don’t want to spend the $3,000—let’s just have him die instead.” But that is what I did. And then I brought him home and buried him in the back yard next to where Georgie is buried.

I was less upset this time. Last time I was a bit of a basket case, I think because it was all totally new and it gave me a Brush With Mortality along the lines of “OMG WE ARE !!!ALL!!! GOING TO DIE AND ROT AND THIS CANNOT BE PREVENTED!!!” whereas this time it was more like, “I remember where I left the shovel, and this time I will change into junky shoes first, and shoot I forgot it was pretty rooty over here but I guess I’ll persevere so he can be next to Georgie.”

Also, this time it was not TWILIGHT and POURING RAIN, which eased the melodrama.

I do feel awful that he spent an entire night with a broken leg. I would almost go so far as to say I feel guilty about it, but I think guilt is an inappropriate emotion when wrongs have not been intentionally committed—and in fact, we tried to do RIGHT. I moved the leg and he didn’t protest, and I carried him around and he was purring, so my tests to establish whether this was an Emergency or not came back negative. Even the next day he seemed okay: I stuffed him into the cat carrier (oh, WINCE!) and he didn’t fight it more than usual, and I pulled him out of the cat carrier (oh, WINCE WINCE WINCE!!) and he didn’t protest. He seemed so okay, I felt like a dumbhead taking him to the vet.

But the vet tech just LOOKED at him and said, “Uh…oh. I want to warn you right now, that leg doesn’t look good.” So SHE knew right away, and I don’t like it when something is obvious to someone else and so I end up feeling like I look neglectful/oblivious at best. It reminds me of when I brought Georgie in for a routine annual check-up and the vet immediately said, “…Does he always breathe like this?” and I didn’t know what she was talking about, and it turned out he had congestive heart failure.

Well, whatever: I wish he hadn’t spent a whole night with a broken leg.

I have two questions—no, three questions.

The first question is: How did I manage to buy such uncomfortable shoes?

The second question is: Seriously, did I try them on someone else’s feet or what?

And the third question is for the Tidy among you. It involves towel storage.

I have some photos to accompany this question, and I feel a little nervous because I will be showing you some of My Mess. The problem is that if I label my messiness as Bad, I’m also labeling everyone messy as or messier than me as Bad. Like, you know when a size 8 friend is talking about how very fat she is? And if you’re a size 14, you’re thinking, “If she thinks SHE’S fat, what must she think of ME?” It’s all very well to say she’s talking about herself and not other people, but what she’s done is drawn her line, and now you know what side of her line you stand on.

People don’t always INTEND to draw a line, they may be making a self-deprecating remark to decrease judgment and alleviate self-conscious anxiety. It’s just that their self-deprecating remark also deprecates a whole group of other people who fall into their category and GOSH I do think that’s something to be avoided.

Where was I? Oh, yes: so this is why I’m NOT going to make any self-consciousness-alleviating remarks about the photos. Even though I am feeling self-conscious about them.

What I need advice on is a Towel System. I used to keep towels on a shelf in the bathroom closet. Which is the perfect place for towels. The problem is, it’s also the perfect place for a cat to seek refuge from children. I used to have a Cat Towel that I spread out over the pile of towels for fur-deflection, but then the towel would fall off, or the cat would knock over the pile of towels, or Paul would remove the cat towel to take a towel for himself and would neglect to replace the cat towel afterward. (I’m not criticizing him AT ALL—I’m very grateful he sometimes gets his own towel just as if he were a fully grown adult!)

The other problem is that the shelf is now too small to hold all our towels (SEVEN PEOPLE).

So anyway, here’s a photo of the shelf that used to have towels on it. Now it has a towel-lined box for the cat, but the cat knows what’s what and never sleeps there anymore. He’s waiting for us to put the REAL towels back.

And here is the temporary witness relocation location for the towels: the top shelf of one of the kids’ closets. I can’t quite reach, so I have to half-fling them up there. And when I take a towel down, other towels come flopping down with it. It is frustrating, but at least the cat can’t get up there.

And I don’t even KNOW what to do with washcloths and handtowels. Even when I have a good place to keep towels, it frustrates me that washcloths/handtowels don’t fold into shapes that fit neatly with folded bathtowels. Flinging them up on the shelf didn’t work AT ALL, so now I keep them, um, on top of our bedroom bureau.

So, what to do with the towels? I’ve tried NOTHIN’ and I’m all outta ideas.

The available locations are:

• The shelf in the bathroom closet where they used to live, but with some sort of cat deflection system. Also, that shelf doesn’t have room for all our towels (SEVEN PEOPLE), but maybe I could free a second shelf?

• In the bathroom vanity. This might keep the cat away (though he can pick doors open if he finds out the towels are in there), and also I could put the vanity stuff on the former towel shelf. But how to fold the towels? And I don’t think they’d all fit. But again, second bathroom soon.

• On a lower shelf of the kids’ closet, with other kid-closet stuff moved to the less-accessible shelf. Then we wouldn’t be able to get a fresh towel if the kids were asleep, but that’s a relatively minor issue.

• Some other location.

Halp. Tell me how to tidy the towels, and where to do the tidying.

MY, haven’t I been a lovely mother this morning! Some highlights:

1. When child asked a routine question, clutched sides of head and said “URRRRRRG!!! EVERYONE! STOP! ASKING! ME! QUESTIONS!”

2. At peak of busyness/frustration, when older two boys presented boring old million-times-repeated bicker (“He called me stupid” “Well he hit me!”), said “Shut up, both of you.” Nice language. Nice diplomacy.

3. Claimed would throw away anything found on the floor, since floor-residence clearly meant no one wanted it. Nice irrational bluff.

4. Made general declaration of martyred righteousness, along the lines of “Why do I have to do all the work around here?” Nice adolescent example.

5. In the middle of busy before-school routine, couldn’t tolerate mildew-speckled shower ceiling one! more! second! and started scrubbing at it with bleach wipes, then got frustrated with children for needing before-school assistance when I was clearly! busy! Nice priorities.

6. Asked series of questions I already knew the answers to, starting with “So you lost your lunch box,” passing through “Your BRAND-NEW lunch box,” and ending with “Less than a week after you got it.” Nice shaming.

Well! Cleaning report: shower ceiling, which has had speckles of mildew for years as I’ve whined “But I can’t REACH it,” has a significantly reduced mildew population. I used a—wait for it—STEP STOOL. I know! I too was amazed that such a product could be applied to this situation!

You are going to feel a lot less sorry for me when you hear that one of the things in the mail pile was this care package from Shelly of Notthedaddy:

The way it happened was this: Shelly of Notthedaddy sent a care package to Shelly of Scenic Overlook, and the package included a book I’d been wanting to read, and I said so in a comment on Scenic Overlook Shelly’s post about the package, and Notthedaddy Shelly was all, “Oh hai! I am your fairy godmother!” and a package arrived in the mail for me. So now I’m thinking of trying that all OVER the place. “I’ve been wanting to drive that car,” I’ll say to you, or, “I’ve been wanting to try that Godiva chocolate,” and you’ll just hand it over!

This has put me in a care package mood. Plus, I’m trying to declutter, and I see no reason I couldn’t “declutter” the gift closet a little. So let’s have a care package. Leave me a comment that starts “I’ve been wanting…” and I’ll pick a winner on Friday night (the 18th). I am afraid you have to be in the U.S. (or APO/FPO) for this: it is SO EXPENSIVE to ship a car full of Godiva a box of clutter overseas.

I saw this for the first time this morning and assumed it must have happened during the night—like, a cat got trapped in the room or there was an earthquake or something. “OMG, what happened???,” I said. “Oh, Henry pulled those down,” Paul said. “…When?,” I asked. “Saturday, I think,” Paul replied. “…,” I said.

Mail, including things such as PAUL’S MAGAZINES. I’d had no idea how vital my “putting them on his desk” role was to the household.

Before I left, I emptied all the trash cans.

Before I left, I did laundry like a madwoman (I’m assuming that’s what madwomen do? Lots of laundry?) so that there would be NO NEED to do any. Paul was spontaneously moved to do some anyway. So far today I’ve found William’s sleeping shorts in Edward’s shirt drawer, William’s shorts and jeans both crammed into his jeans drawer so that it can’t close (shorts drawer is one drawer up and has plenty of room in it), and a little stack of mixed shirts, socks, and underwear resting comfortably in William’s shorts drawer.

Paul SNIPPED OFF the pull-cord to this lamp (one of the reasons I BOUGHT the lamp), “because the kids kept messing with it.” WT?????????????????????????????????