I’ve been home ill with a sinus infection since Wednesday. I finally went to the doctor on Thursday and I didn’t go into work Friday and I’m out today. You should know that I am the worst sick patient ever. I love being busy; I hate seeing the house a mess and lying in a heap of blankets for days and staring at the ceiling or television is a literal hell. During my snot-induced loafing I thought about why I hate being leisurely while ill. It comes down to two things:
- I am going to die: As in, Life is only here for a bit and we are quickly hurdling towards demise. Therefore I should spend my time doing worthwhile things in order to eek the most I can out of my wee slice of time on Earth. Of course, “doing worthwhile things” translates into making lists, buying books, and knitting most of the time. I’m an Existentialist with embroidery patterns and cookie recipes.
- I have Mom Guilt: When Sam — who is hardly ever ill — is sick or the kiddos aren’t feeling well I send them all to bed, make pots of tea and stockpots of homemade soup, and dispense as many cuddles as tolerated. When I am sick, I feel like I’m slacking on my “mom-duties”. I don’t want to clean, or go to the grocery store, or — the most guilt-inducing of all — play with the kids. Then when Sam is at work and the kiddos are at school (like right now) I feel like I should “do” something. Laundry? Re-organizing the freezer? Dusting? On Friday, I decided to heave myself out of bed and tidy the house. I spent 20 minutes loading the dishwasher, folding clothes, and making beds. Then I had a huge coughing fit, felt utterly drained, and slept for another hour. In other words, it is okay for Sam and this kiddos to be ill and rest, but I feel like the ultimate slacker-mom when I am ill and rest.
My Not-So-Inner Feminist and my Inner-Reasonable-Person (she is buried deep) surfaced on Friday after I overdid it and decided to Take It Easy. I finished the last 400 pages of Our Mutual Friend. I did a little bit of embroidery. I watched Downton Abbey. I napped extensively. I let Sam handle dinner, and Atticus’s bath, and playing with the kids. In fact, Sam took Atticus to the doctor (he has a little ear infection, but we caught it early on) morning and I stayed home and played Bejeweled on my phone.
By Saturday night I was going insane. I had to do something. So I knifed and buried my Inner-Reasonable-Person and decided to organize my Craft Lair. You can see the awfulness of my Craft Lair here. Atticus helped. He had great fun putting skeins of yarn in a laundry basket and then dragging them out again. I diagnosed the problem with my craft lair. I didn’t have places to put things. Well, I have places, but none of them good when there is a curious toddler afoot. I let Atticus get into things as long as they aren’t dangerous or impossibly messy to clean. Therefore yarn and embroidery hoops are forever scattered around the house. I needed a place out of the grasp of Atticus the Future Fiber Artist…. hummmmm……
Diaper boxes on top of the Craft Lair dresser!
Well, that worked, but was completely unattractive. Then Creativity slapped me silly and I had an idea.
1 Diaper box + rolls of faux wood-paneling (rescued from the library trash) + thrifted pillowcases = ATTRACTIVE YARN STORAGE.
I whipped these up in the space of 10 minutes and had all my yarn tidied away neatly. I spent the rest of the evening working for 10 minutes and then resting for 50 minutes. I got it done and when Sam came home from the tattoo shop sometime after-midnight the Craft Lair was a-sparkling.
|They aren’t perfect, but they look a heck of a lot better than undecorated diaper boxes.|
|Organization for the win!|
|A place for everything!|
Accomplishing this really raised my spirits and it really didn’t take too long or too much effort once I had a place for all my supplies. Huzzah!