House cleaning ADHD

I am just wondering if my newly diagnosed affliction is a common one. You see I have discovered I have a condition known as housecleaning attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder (H-ADHD for short). You are probably shaking your head and thinking "nope,not me" but read on and see if by the end, you also have this affliction.
It started when I became a stay at home mum. Obviously it was now my job to keep the home fires burning, nutritious, healthy food on the table, a sparkly abode and a contented rosy cheeked little munchkin to greet daddy at the door each afternoon. Well regardless of what Meatloaf thinks, I reckon 1/3 ain't bad.
I hate housecleaning with a passion. Its endless, its repetitive, its mind numbing and its exhausting. Exhausting you say? Well i would have agreed with you before my diagnosis. Housecleaning whilst monotonous, should not be exhausting. Which made me investigate my ways and see what was tiring me out. This is what I found:

Me Cleaning my house

start in kitchen- love a clean kitchen. Fill up sink to soak things, load dishwasher, clean random stuff from bench. hang on, whats my hairbrush doing on the bench? Well better take that back to my room. Oh dear, the ensuite basin needs a clean, might just do that while I am here. Uh oh, the bin is full, better take that out, its bin day tomorrow and if i don't do it now I will surely forget. Walk down hallway with offending rubbish bag and trip on Elijah's toys. What are they doing in the hallway when they clearly belong in the toy room? better take them back first- don't want anyone tripping over them. Put toys away and remember I have a friend coming tomorrow whose little boy loves playing in the toy room. Better give it a quick tidy while I am here. Looks clean, but needs a vacuum. Off to laundry to retrieve the vacuum cleaner and think while I am here I may as well put on a load of washing. Check bathroom for discarded clothes to fill a whole load and see the mirror has toothbrush spray and hand prints on it. I will get right onto that or else i will forget later. Done. Ahh that's right, the washing. washing on, now where was I? Oh I will just go check if i have any emails and see whats news on facebook and kidspot. Hang on there are still dishes in the sink. Wash dishes then find some mail that needs reading and filing. Oh better just pay that bill now or I will forget. Hang on, while I am here I had better have another peek to see if anyone has put some new pics up on facebook. Now, back to the vacuuming. But before then, Elijah is still in his pyjamas, better dress him first. Go to spare room bed to find elijah some clothes- it kind of doubles as another closet and see a basket full of clothes that needs folding. surely Elijah wont mind if I just fold it first. Well since its folded I may as well put it away before it gets all messed up again. Clothes away, see bed is unmade, make mental note to make bed, find more washing, take to laundry, trip over bag of rubbish previously left in hallway. Curse rubbish bag, then think if I am going to the bin I may as well get all the rubbish I can and do it in one trip (we have had lots of rain lately and to get to the bin i almost need scuba equipment and oxygen tanks!) so check fridge for stuff to throw out, better wipe that spill while I am here, check other bathroom cupboard and toilet for more overflowing bins and make the trek outside after explaining to Elijah that if mummy doesn't return by nap time he is to dial 000. Make it back from bin, tidy up deck furniture, see floor needs sweeping, check facebook once more just in case and then flop on the couch in an exhausted state. I look around and the kid is still in pyjamas, the floor still needs vacuuming, the kitchen is unfinished,  there is washing to hang out, the bed is till unmade.....................ladies and gentlemen I give you  housecleaning ADHD. Now tell me I am the only one???????
                                                    

On my soapbox

Ok, so underneath this weak, lily-livered     mild mannered, placid  facade there roars an angry lion. No I am not kidding, and no, thats not the funny part of my blog. I usually cruise along through life with my little feathers unruffled and quite happy. But sometimes something will annoy me. Perhaps annoy is too weak a word. Something will downright peeve me off to the max (I wont swear- my mum reads this!) And when something downright peeves me off, you had better look out if you are the one that causes it. Not many people have seen me in full on peeved mode, but those that have, and lived to tell the tale, will back me up on this. I am like a raging inferno. So if you annoy me, you had better be wearing your inflammable undies that day!
Last night at my weight watchers meeting, i was sitting with a newly made friend and her very gorgeous little bub. We were happily listening away to the leader talking about the new changes to the program (this in itself caused some little sparks i can tell you) when a woman from behind leans over and taps my friend on the shoulder. "How old is your little boy" she asks. I am thinking, oh how lovely. Friend replies "6 months" Lady continues "I have a 6 month old too. Yours is so much bigger than mine, he is a big one isnt he"  Conversation closed. W........T.........F (using the initials is not swearing) and O...M...G.  How freaking rude! 
And so we come to me being on my soap box. I absolutely hate when people comment on the size of another persons child- in a negative way.  I talked to the friend about it on our way out and she was visibly upset. She said she often gets comments on how big her children are. Now when i saw this little boy, I didnt notice his size, I notice how he had a smile that spread across his whole face and lit up the room. I noticed how happy he was even though it was late afternoon. The rudeness of the offending lady made my blood boil. I seriously wanted to round house kick her in the head- Chuck Norris style.
We spend so much of our lives being told what is the perfect body shape,  Surely we can spare young children and babies the constant commentary and criticisms of their little developing bodies. I realise that obesity is a major concern and I also know how cruel kids can be towards overweight kids. But come on, my friends children are 6 months and 2.5. Who knows how their shape will change as they grow older.  When I first started swimming lessons with Elijah, there was another little boy who joined not long after. He was a couple months younger than the other kids but was quite a bit bigger. 2 other mothers actually said to this little boys mother "Oh my god he is so huge!" and this was often. The poor mum kind of laughed it off and agreed "yeah he is a big boy" but beneath it you could see it happned to her often and she didnt like it at all. So one day, having had enough i said to her "gee your son.." and I could almost see her bracing herself for the inevitable "has the most beautiful smile" and she then gave me her own beautiful smile.
So I have decided that if anyone comments to me in a negative way about Elijahs size (who is very average, sits in the 50th percentile for weight, but is quite tall, my reply will be simple. I will smile and say "You know your right. Thanks for so kindly pointing out that my child is part elephant. We constantly encourage anorexia in our house, but 2 years olds... so stubborn!"  and then i will round house kick them in the head

She died with her granny pants on

I have a secret fear- one that is about to be revealed for the first time ever for public consumption. I fear dying wearing bad undies. There its out. I feel so much better. Obviously death is not an appealing thought for anyone, but dying whilst wearing dodgy undies makes it that much worse (Yes I am THAT shallow) .
Today whilst driving home in my new dress (yes the Target slogan won) and my super huge granny pants on (a pair of pre-weight loss body shaping wonders i found in a cupboard clean out last week - SCORE!) I envisaged the following scenario.
Insert horrific incident of choice that renders me unconscious and in dire need of emergency help. Ambos arrive on scene and see i need resuscitation and quite possibly defibrillation. Start to cut away dress (in reality that would rouse me from the deepest of comas!) but in my fantasy I remain unconscious. Next minute loud and raucous laughter fills the air. Onlookers are astounded as i am hovering on deaths door. "bahahahahahahahahahahahahah, check out the pants on this chick mate" says ambo 1 to ambo 2
"They could double as a parachute! A herd of elephants could stand under these babies for shelter!  She would cause a solar eclipse when she hangs these bad boys on the line! They seriously come up to her bra. You really must check them out"   Meanwhile I am fading further away as the ambos are rolling on the ground laughing at my offending underwear.
"We need back up, man down! man down! " says ambo 2 as ambo 1 begins choking from laughing so much.  I can see the incident report they will write upon my untimely death.
"Patient could have been saved had life saving resuscitation taken place quicker. Ambo 1 also could have  administered above mentioned resus had he not died laughing at the patients unfortunate choice of underwear Diagnosis: death from 'pantius  maximus'"
My headstone would read " Here lies Angie, she died with her granny pants on"  I think i will throw those pants away now

An Advertisers Dream girl

I think I may just be an advertisers dream. When they are sitting around the table having a big pow wow over some brilliant new campaign, I am sure it is my face they see. I reckon this one will really get her, they snicker to each other with a greedy gleam in their eye. Why I hear you ask, do I think this? Well its simple- advertising really works on me.

For instance: driving along singing a song, thinking about what I have to do today etc etc. “hello!” what’s that , a billboard advertising KFC. Well now all I feel like is KFC. I could possibly perish this very minute, such is my new craving for the previously unthought about kfc. Even though I know there is a snowflakes chance in hell I will actually go and buy KFC, the thought has been planted in my head- hence advertising works.

Then flicking through catalogues (like  heroin to a drug addict)  I see the following statement in a Target catalogue- “Happiness is dresses” Oh. My. God. It’s been there all along, staring me in the face. All these years searching for elusive happiness and all I had to do was wear a dress!! Right, off to buy some flirty, fun little frocks . I mean, my happiness is at stake after all. .What husband could possible deny his wife buying happiness for goodness sake.

Now another form of advertising that is guaranteed to suck me in with the force of a Dyson vacuum cleaner (wow , Dyson advertising obviously made an impression somewhere along the line- oh and I own one and its awesome!) is grocery store catalogues. They beckon me with their ‘specials’ this, and their ‘1/2 price’ that’s. Now even if I have absolutely no need in the world for what they are peddling I still buy it. Justification? Its just such good value!!  Wow, Pedigree Pal dog food, buy 200 get 6000 free. Yes please. No I don’t have a dog, but gee that’s great value.  Oh what about 3 tins of condensed milk for $600, a saving of $3 . Well that’s just the very thing I need. You know how well weight watchers and condensed milk go together!  Hang on, whats that I see?  Eau de fermented yak sweat parfum is on sale for …wait for it….. half price. I start salivating. Who cares if I smell like a fetid yak. It was half price!!!!!!!

See I have a problem. The word sale to me is like the words ‘free tequila shots’ to uni students (hey its my blog- I have licence to stereotype and generalise) . Whether I need whats on offer or not, if there is a saving to be had, chances are  I will buy it.  And that’s exactly why informercials are banned in my house. Otherwise I would have every exercise machine, cooking appliance, acne, youth and haemmoroid cream and life insurance funeral plan known to man- and one darn impressive steak knife collection!

Its on like donkey kong!

I am doing weight watchers in an attempt to shed some kilos that have become increasingly familiar and comfortable on my bones. I have been doing ok, 15 kg gone so far. Granted I started at the beginning of the year, but I am a slavish follower of the "slow weight loss is good weight loss and will stay lost" theory. At this rate, this weight shouldn't find me again til 2098. Well so I thought. What I didn't factor into this equation was Mother Nature. And honestly, she can be a right cow!  Take for example this week. Monday rolls around I get on the scales, all looking positive. Tuesday- ditto, Wednesday- I begin to smile. Thursday morning arrives, its weigh in day. I happily bounce onto the scales full of smug confidence. Cue horror movie type scream as I look down at the number. It cannot possibly be true, how? why? I have gained 900g overnight!!! I have been eating freaking salad all week and suffering horrendous headaches from lack of carby-type goodness and I have gained weight- the day of my weigh in. My usual weigh in day routine of eating very little and rationing my water sips isn't even going to save me today. Defeated I slink from the bathroom, with a sidelong glance at the razor blades sitting on the bench. I begin to wonder how much blood weighs and how much I would lose if I just slashed my wrists a little bit (I am seriously kidding re this last comment) . So I get to my meeting and decide that I will use my 'no weigh pass', which I have affectionately renamed my 'no freaking way am I getting weighed today' pass which helps to soothe my crushed spirit a little. BUT today I wake up, hop on the scales and you would not believe it............ the 900g is GONE!!!!!!!! Its too late now, weigh in was yesterday! This leads me to believe that good ol mother nature is out there having a good old laugh at my expense, high fiving those around her laughing about how they got me a good one. Not happy mother nature! I am not laughing. So now its on- the challenge has been laid down. I am going to be so freaking good this week even mother nature wont be able to hold me back, starting today withhaving  fulfilled my personal challenge to walk to moffat beach and home again- a 2 hour walk. Suck on that MN! You cant keep a carb-deprived, hormonal weight watcher down!

With a little help from my friends....

Friends- we all have them, we all love them. Friends are a vital part of life, and a lovely part of life. I was looking through my facebook list and realised that the people on my friends list fit pretty much into the following categories. Some of course fit into more than one.

The school friend

When you are at school it is your world. But as soon as you leave, you find it was quite a small world after all. The friends you thought you would cherish forever move on and you all go in different directions. You try to catch up for a start, and may see each other at weddings, but mostly you just see each other on facebook

The long distance friend

These are friends with whom you shared a time in your life and now you are separated by distance. But when you get together the distance and time falls away and its like you were never apart

The true friend

These ones are rare, so when you get them you need to treasure them with your life! A true friend will be there when you need them, to be a shoulder to cry on, whom you could call at 4 in the morning if your world should fall apart. They listen to you when you talk, instead of talking at you all the time. They just seem to know when things are not going well and know when a hug is needed. A true friend makes you feel good about yourself and is one whom makes a smile appear on your face when you hear their name. Someone with whom there is nothing you cannot share. They really are one of Gods greatest gifts

The friend in sheeps clothing

This friend is one to watch out for. They claim to be a friend but don’t do many friend type things. They call you- friendly- but talk about themselves the whole time- unfriendly. They get your hopes up- friendly- but constantly let you down- unfriendly. They can be good fun- friendly – but it tends to be all about them- unfriendly. You sometimes  wonder if you mean anything to them at all

The fun friend

This friend is a good time friend. You get together and it’s all about the laughs. They are refreshing for the soul and you look forward to getting together with this friend. This friend is one who brings out the youthfulness in you and one with whom you can have good childlike fun

The friend you avoid in the supermarket.

This is a friend whom you knew in the past. You accepted them on fb only cos you find it difficult to say no. If you see this friend in Woollies, you may be tempted to go down a different aisle if they haven’t seen you. Or you may quickly duck into the 12 items or less aisle with over 30 items in your basket to escape them (and end up mortified when you realise your social faux pas and get death glares from people behind you in the line)…… not that I speak from experience of course lol

Friends- you gotta love them even if they drive you crazy!

Hello and Welcome

Well this will just be a short one, because I have just spent ages setting up my blog. The small person very considerately is having a big sleep, but am sure he will be waking soon.
So wow, my very own blog!! Very exciting. I have blogged before but never had my own page. I hope I am up for the challenge. This head contains so much 'stuff', so who better to share it all with than the blogging world at large. Maybe one day I will even have a follower to read it!