August 04, 2003

Mental (Health) Part 62

One of the other brain rearrangement projects of the last few months has been claiming the house back from the five year old and the animals. Sure, I go two steps forward, three steps back, but it's coming along little by little.

First the living room. It wasn't. For the last five years it has been a playroom, along with the dining room, kitchen, Jenna's room, and the master bedroom. Yes, since she was mostly at home she invaded everywhere and it took a genuine effort to begin to channel her STUFF into proper places, to restore some kind of order and then look upon the destruction that had taken place under layers and layers of toys and paint and glue and sparkles and stickers and and and and.

The living room is happy now. Remainders of Jenna's Stewardship now include a small table and chair for her to work at and ONE (count em--ONE) small box of toys. The colorful bins containing what must be thousands of pieces and bits of polly pocket clothes and barbie limbs and hundreds of other important things are now in her bedroom. Her desk in her bedroom boasts a globe and a clean workspace. Her bed is in a new place--no wall needed to keep her from rolling out anymore! Next, her closet. But not too much too soon. Change should be measured in relation to the sanity it creates or destroys.

A week or so ago, I decided that the dining room should be claimed back too. It should be a place to--well--dine. Or at least eat. So more organizing and categorizing, very little tossing of anything, but much relocating. Desktop PC's should live on computer desks, CDs in CD holders, etc.

Little by little, long before I knew what I was doing, I was preparing the house for a kindergartener. A school girl. Not a hopping bopping 1, 2, 3, 4, and finally 5 year old.

I took the deck back too--or I tried to--from the dogs. I painted the deck furniture without expecting the summer of rains the likes of which I haven't seen here before. But still, they look better than they did. A sprayer attached to the hose put a dent in the Diva-Dog hair which is matted from one end of the property to the other, especially on the deck. Spider webs sprayed away. At least six layers of dirt washed away.

A tremendous feeling it is taking back the house, putting the prison guard back in charge of the inmates rather than vice versa. We needed that kind of order boost. No idea if our natural tendency to do a million things at once, or the natural tendency to be... um... scattered will catch up with us. Probably. But in the mean time, I'm going to survey the fruits of my labor, stretch out on the couch, and enjoy the lack of complete randomness.