Domestic Goddess

Martha Stewart, I am not. For anyone who really knows me, you know that I am a messy, messy person. In high school, friends would come over and help me clean my room. (Thanks, Gipp girls!) My dad had a rule that I couldn't get my drivers license until I could keep my room clean ... well, it took me more than a year. It got worse in college. One night during open dorms, some guy friends found Sidra and me in another friend's room and said, "Come quick! Your room has been trashed!!" We explained that no one had attacked us ... that's how our room usually looked. I probably should have failed myself at room check (as an RA) more often, too.

I'm still a messy person. I just cleaned my computer desk two weekends ago. Right now it's piled with a Target bag (containing unmailed Fathers' Day and wedding cards), dirty dishes, baby wipe refills, and lightbulbs to replace ones that burned out approximately three months ago. The only reason our house is ever semi-presentable is because of our amazing nanny. Have I mentioned how much I love Clemence? Having her in our house every day holds us accountable to keep the house picked up AND she does light housework, too - vacuums the living room, loads and unloads the dishwasher, does the girls' laundry. It's great!

I've digressed. All of this background about me being messy supports a recent Katrina-ism. Saturday I pulled out the ironing board to press new curtains for the living room (we've been curtain-less for nearly 2 months, since some friends helped us paint). As I set up the ironing board and plugged in the iron, Katrina asked, "What's THAT?!"

*sigh*

I've probably ironed fewer than ten times in the last three years - her entire existence. Actually, I rarely saw my mom iron, either. She would press my dad's shirts every once in awhile, before going out to eat. But that was only in the spring and summer, if I remember correctly; he almost always wore a sweater over his dress shirts in the fall and winter. And since he wore t-shirts and jeans to work, there wasn't much else to iron. Ma would throw her wrinkly clothes in the dryer to dewrinkle (still does today - so do I).

I did make kumla on Sunday, though! I think it was my best batch yet. I only peeled 10 lbs of potatoes this time, instead of the usual 20 - 25 lbs. It made a smaller batch, of coure, but it also went faster. Even better, the kumla pans (12- and 16-quart stock pots) fit in our new dishwasher and they came out SPOTLESS.

I managed to burn my left index finger and thumb tonight. I grabbed a hot pan thoughtlessly. Ouch.

Mikayla turns six months old tomorrow and has a well-visit in the morning. I'll post her stats soon!