When she puts her mind to it, my mother’s major strength is cleaning. When I put my mind to it, I get cleaning done. Don’t get me wrong – I clean well enough to keep the germs at bay and have a healthy, clean home. But at the same time, I often toss out baking sheets rather than try to scrub three months worth of excess around-the-edge scuzz off of them. I also breeze through cleaning, because I hate to clean.
But organizing? Oh hell, I’ll do it any day. My kitchen cabinets. The bathroom’s shower organizer. My desk. My husband’s desk. My Documents. You name if it, if it can be organized, sorted, reorganized or resituated in any way, shape or form, I’ll do it.
Did I mention that I have been rearranging furniture since I was seven years old? It started with my bedroom. When I was twelve, I moved on to my mom’s living room. We have lived in our current home for six months, and I have rearranged the living room once, Ryan’s room twice, and Alyssa’s room three times.
Somebody stop me.


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