Obviously, organization is my favorite subject. How could such a boring sub- ject be so satisfying? Let me explain.
At our house, we work on a system of negative rewards. By that I mean, I don’t hear too much about it when I do things right, but I hear plenty when I mess up! Sound f***liar?
After spending hours on all fours cleaning the refrigerator, I can’t remember ever hearing anyone say, “Gee, Mom, the refrigerator looks great!” And no one ever says, “l’m so glad all the buttons are on my shirt this morning.” Or, “Aw shucks, dear, you made the bed!” But, boy, do I hear about it if there’s a button missing, a sticky floor, or an unmade bed. Sometimes it seems there’s a universal misconception that I have exclusive rights to the sewing box, the mop, and the linen closet. (I’m doing my best to re-conceive that idea!)
You too way have noticed that doing housework is like fining a sieve with water. Phyllis Diller sums it up nicely: “Cleaning the house while the children are growing is like shoveling snow before it stops snowing.
Negative rewards. We face them daily. Do it right and no one remembers, but do it wrong and no one forgets. Maybe you’ve noticed that there’s not a lot of glory at home. We don’t often receive accolades or pats on the back (with the obvious exception of Mother’s Day or Father’s Day). And where are my loyal supporters the rest of the year? Why, they’re spilling milk in my clean refrigerator, throwing gum wrappers in their sock drawers, and volunteering four hundred cupcakes for the next PTA meeting (which is usmlly this evening). No wonder we conclude that organizd living is best left to the childless, the single, or to inc