The Witching Hour

Ahh, the witching hour. So aptly named, I think. That time between 4:30pm and 6:30pm. When Everyday Italian and Barefoot Contessa and the news is on; the only time of day I want to watch TV, have a glass of wine, knit, or just sit down without something to do. Of course this 2 hour period is peppered with kids in and out of the pantry (“dinner’s an hour away, quit eating!”), Sponge Bob or I Carly on the porch TV, a crying baby who just woke up from her nap and “just wants to be held” because she’s not really hungry, just spoiled. This is the time I SHOULD be a good mom and cater to their every desire, but unfortunately the time I most want to shut down.

So does anyone else have this same problem? I was escaping upstairs, er, going up to make the bed (before the husband gets home and sees that it has been left unmade ALL DAY J - I have a little self respect!) and realized how much I love my bed. I love how pretty it is, I love how soft it is, I love how it feels, at the end of a day, to get in and feel how cool the sheets are on my feet. To make a bed really well is one of the little pleasures in life. I am extremely picky about it, and I pull the sheets so tight that you could almost bounce the proverbial quarter. But I really think those military people had something there. When my bed is unmade, my room is a mess, no matter if there is NOTHING else lying around. But when the bed is made, things seem in order, calm, and clean. The same holds true for the rest of my house; when I see nothing out of order, I can pretend that the rest of my life is just as orderly. I have a haven that I can always retreat to, say a few prayers and keep going.

This is one of my biggest goals in life – to create a haven for my family and friends. A place that everyone feels comfortable in, so that my kids WANT to come home and not stay out all night partying (fingers crossed). How do you do it with 7 kids? That’s the question I get asked anywhere from 1 to 20 times per day (depending on where I go during the day). It just happens, I make it happen. Am I a house Nazi? Probably, but I prefer to call it “high standards”. Really though, I have found that the most effective way to keep the house clean is to make the kids realize that THEY can’t stand it either when it is a mess, sneaky, eh? It is working too, my reverse psychology. I just praise them when they do clean up and tell them this is the surest way to my heart. When the house is neat, I’m a better mother; more able to play Parcheesi at a moment’s notice. Don’t we all want to just sit and play Parcheesi when your 5 year old asks?

I’m off, I think I’ll be blue this time…