Is your inner child craving attention? Don’t miss this.

Attention Is All I Want!

My reason for getting organized way back in 1977 was so that I’d have more free time to play with my family. I wasn’t having that much fun in my chosen career as a homemaker and it was mainly because of my disorganization and the messes it created. I knew that my attitude had to change about my life as a wife, mother and homemaker and once I nailed the reason to make the effort to change, everything fell into place (but not overnight).

I met Nelly, (my inner child; that part of me that’s about nine-years-old), in 2002 and in that meeting I realized she was behind my reason to change 25 years earlier. Over the last decade I’ve grown to adore her “take” on life. I see myself as her parent, always needing to monitor her thoughts and guide her into cooperating with all my “adult” plans and rules.

We just got back from a cruise with 3,000 passengers. I did a lot of people watching and I saw many well-behaved children and many who were out of control. In every instance I noticed that back of every child was a parent with either good or bad parenting skills. The well-behaved children stood quietly in lines at the buffets and the out of control children (they always stick out more) were always issued a variety of useless directives.

We were in line behind Jason (about six-years-old) and his parents and sister Becky (about four) and we watched him hit his sister when the parents weren’t looking, tug on his father’s shirt, kick his mother’s purse and sag to the floor several times in the five minutes we were in line.

But what about the Inner Child?

Is it Time for a New Bathrobe?

I decided it is for Terry and me. My robe is 20 years old and I bought it at a garage sale. It’s heavy and comfy and if I write too much about it here, I’m apt to talk myself out of dumping it. (Maybe I should keep it as my winter robe. On some of those cold winter nights I have found such refuge in it. I also feel spiritual in it sometimes, because it has a hood and when I put it over my head, I feel like St. Francis.) Okay, okay it’s going in storage until November when my winter sweaters and coats come out of waiting.

Terry’s robe is another story. It is downright scary! It’s blue plaid velour and after the first washing it lost most of its “lour” and because the arms were too long he cut them off and insisted I didn’t need to hem his alteration project. So I didn’t, leaving the ends frayed in strings that grow longer with every washing.

The thing is, I never think to go bathrobe shopping and only when I’m pampered with a luxurious white terrycloth robe in a fancy hotel do I think it’s time to spring for a new “morning” look.

A Saint and a Blue Man

Terry and I have changed our routine this year and I don’t shower, dress and make the bed first thing in the morning anymore.

Do you ever stop to think about how honored you are to have given birth? When my first child was born it absolutely changed my life in more ways than one. I did not want to have this baby the whole time I carried it. I was in a very unhappy marriage and with that pregnancy I felt trapped. If abortion would have been legal then, I would not have done that, but I did think seriously that when it was born we could adopt it out!

The Four Ps

It's spring and we SHEs are like busy bees around the nurseries where the flowers beg us to take them home like puppies at the Humane Society.

Have you ever seen a honey bee that’s got so much pollen on her thighs that she can barely fly? I often wonder if some of them never make it back to their hives they're so loaded down. Like those bees, we can get carried away buying more than we can plant. We fly home with our trunks full of flats of annuals and the optimism we’’ll plant them all in a day. Often we poop out in the middle of the plant and the remaining purchase is at the mercy of our next planting mood.

A good rule of thumb is the four Ps. Plan, Prepare, Purchase, Plant. If you try to prepare and plant at the same time, you’ll poop out and then those plants that you have taken into your care face possible death. Of course it’s not premeditated, but the plants will be just as dead.

Many struggle with disorganization as I once did. I was in nervous remission for years, but as time has passed I’m not that nervous anymore. I don’t let my messy tendencies get too far out of hand and my home is never more than 15 minutes to “company ready” (and that’s for the whole house).

When every room is HOURS or DAYS away from "company ready" and I HAVE BEEN THERE, it can easily be overwhelming and in that state of mind we can freeze, bust out of the place or retreat under the covers. All those actions make things worse.

I love playing with acronyms! When my sister and I started teaching our system for getting organized, we knew we wanted to name it something catchy. We loved the thought of calling ourselves “Home Executives,” but we knew we would never be home executives like our BO (Born Organized) mom who ironed Dad’s underwear, baked everything from scratch, kept her high school figure and “freshened up” fifteen minutes before our dad came home from work every night.

We liked the sound of SHE and since we had the HE part, all we needed was the “S.” The “S” would have to be an adjective to describe the kind of HEs we were. So what kind of Home Executives were we? Scummy didn’t describe us; we weren’t sloppy, shifty, sneaky, skittish, sassy or stupid either. (Great names for another clan of dwarfs, but not for us.)

This week's Young@Heart is brought to you by Sidetracked Home Executives: from pigpen to paradise! Pam explains why a SHE is called a SHE:

I’m compelled to expose the epitome of stupidity here in my beautiful state of Washington. I’m sorry, but for the last 17 years or so, I’ve been appalled at something I think will at least make you shake your head and at best make you go along with my appalation (I know there’s no such word).

This weekend Terry and I went to one of my favorite getaways, Skamania Lodge. It’s nestled off Highway 14, a two-lane road that follows the Columbia River on the Washington, State side. The Skamania Lodge has abulous food, breathtaking views of mountains, a golf course and the Columbia River. They have cool rocking chairs by a gigantic fireplace that burns real wood and rooms with soft beds, luxuriant bath towels and white terrycloth bathrobes that make you feel like a movie star.

Skamania County is wonderful too. It’s deep in the Columbia River Gorge and its natural beauty is beyond comparison. I love the sound of the word, Skamania. I love its people and its restaurants like The Big River Grill, the Venus Café and El Rio Texicantina.

If you can't make it to Heaven just yet - Skamania will do

Many struggle with disorganization as I once did. I was in nervous remission for years, but as time has passed I’m not that nervous anymore. I don’t let my messy tendencies get too far out of hand and my home is never more than 15 minutes to “company ready” (and that’s for the whole house).

When every room is HOURS or DAYS away from "company ready" and I HAVE BEEN THERE, it can easily be overwhelming and in that state of mind we can freeze, bust out of the place or retreat under the covers. All those actions make things worse.

The day before Valentine’s Day this year, my husband, Terry asked me what I thought of having our friends the Lapslys and Geocks over for dinner and to play cards on Valentine’s Day. “It’d sorta be a spur of the moment affair,” he said.

Since I love spur of the moment events and I have a passion for cooking, entertaining and playing cards, I jumped at the thought.