On Monday I was supposed to work on the biggest boys closet.  Well, I had him clean under his bed that day, thinking that adding an under-the-bed-storage box would help his messy woes under there.  Oh no.  It took him hours and hours and in the end he was frustrated because it wouldn’t all fit in the box.  I was frustrated because all that stuff on the floor meant I couldn’t get into the closet where I was meant to be.

 

Yesterday I was supposed to work on the youngest sons closet.  Well, I got distracted by the giant mess directly outside of it and tackled that first so by the time I got to the closet there wasn’t enough time left to finish it.  Plus there was so much stuff on top of his costume chest.  The costume chest was a bad idea.  I thought it’d help with the tidying, but it’s ended up being the place where things get tossed in a hurry and then when it gets full, things get tossed on top, too.  So the chest was excavated.  I can see the top of it.  We put away the books, I stuffed all the clothes in the washer (not knowing what was dirty or clean),  and I made a to-be-tried-on shoe pile.

 

Today, however, my friend J.  (K.’s mom) is taking Greg to her house while I have some “me time” and by “me time” I mean I’m going to catch up on those closets!  🙂

2 thoughts on “Admitting defeat”

  1. Now, see, that’s not actually defeat. It’s being forced to reconcile with the fact that what you thought was a finite and discreet task was in reality a process and you had accomplished the first step (or steps) along the path. Congratulate yourself for what you *did* get done within the process and enjoy the fact that you’re closer to the overall goal.
    Defeat would have been to simply trash it all, light a fire in the dumpster, and makes s’mores over the flames.
    See? There’s a difference.

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