Monday, April 18, 2011


Sometimes I feel like I've spent my entire day just moving things around. I wake up, move the baby to change, move her to feed, move her to the other 'side' to feed. I change clothes (sometimes) and move them around - to the dirty clothes basket, or back to the drawers, but usually just to another spot on the floor. Jacer Man wakes up, I move his stuff around. Sippy cups, "special" choc-choc wrappers, blankets, toys. Move baby to the floor, move her to my hip, to her crib, changing table, floor, hip, wash, rinse, repeat.
Why is that? After every task completed, however mundane, things must be moved either back into place or out of the way. Push the dirt around on the floor, move it to the trash, move trash to Dumpster, Dumpster to curb. I need to work out so I move my arms and legs and butt around till they can't move anymore. The only alternative, though, is to NOT move things. And when I do that, I feel rebellious, like I'm going on strike. "Hell no, move no mo'! Hell no! Move no mo'!!" But then I'm met with the inevitable dread when I look around and realize there's a LOT of things that need to be moved. It's a vicious cycle.
So what do I do? Stop moving things altogether? No, that's how people end up on 'Hoarding: Buried Alive'. I guess my real dilemma is that it just seems so pointless, such a time-sucker, like there's so many better/funner/important things I can be doing than shuffling my crap around the house. But again, the alternatives are either working and not being home to move these things or to not have things at all. Hmmm...on that note...
Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to move I go.

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