This Kitchen's a Mess! (but so is everything else...)

I spent all day yesterday cleaning my kitchen.  I mean *all* day.  Now, you might ask yourself, "Was her kitchen really that dirty?  Does she have a really large kitchen?  Was there some kind of food explosion that necessitated scrubbing down cabinets?  Was she expecting some VIP for company?  Did she get lost in the Tupperware drawer?"

To put it simply... no.  And the sad part is that I didn't even really finish (really finish!) the job.

Perhaps you can relate... If you're like me, you have an area in your house (or, in my case, several) that are undesignated "dumping grounds."   As in, "Well, this bit of mail can wait a few days, so I'll just add it to the stack of loose change, lost buttons, broken toys, children's vitamins, and partially-eaten baggies of kiddo snacks for later."  And, of course, these are *sacred grounds* in that they can't be touched! until you've had a chance to actually sort through it all, lest you accidentally drop the phone bill in the garbage.  (oops.)   So, of course, the stack grows to a pile... which grows to a mound... which eventually overtakes every square inch of the lovely new countertops you *swore* would be kept in "pristine condition" once you actually acquired them.

Until one day, you walk into the kitchen (or, *ahem*, whatever room stores your particular dumping ground) and have realized that the kitchen is unrecognizable as a kitchen and could, instead, be declared a "state of emergency" in the aftermath of a Category 5 tornado.

Now, to be fair, we do have a 2-foot-tall tornado that lives in this house and that varies between categories 1-5 on a regular basis.  (And he isn't confined to the kitchen, either.)  And, yes, chasing young 'uns all day, especially while pregnant, is exhausting to the point where one could really use a glass of wine (or 12) by 8 p.m. but passes out on the couch instead.  (Can't really have the alcohol now, anyway ... a post for a different day!)  However, I really can't use that as an excuse to justify the state of my kitchen.  Instead, I have to acknowledge that I do allow the clutter monster to move about my house without restriction and that I really only do something about it when sufficiently motivated.

Like, needing space to prepare dinner.

So that was my goal for yesterday: to get the kitchen in shape, and to be able to actually see (and use!) the glorious counters that we had worked so hard to obtain in the first place.  Luckily, the nesting instinct runs strong in my blood and the energy to carry out such a massive undertaking was boosted by a lift from the 2nd trimester energy gnomes and a small cup of coffee.

My plan of attack was simple.  I would clear off each section of counter space, wipe it down, and reorganize it, placing everything that didn't actually belong in the kitchen into some sort of recepticle for later distribution.  Ahh, what a glorious feeling to clear the dust and see the beauty of solid surfaces that I knew lingered underneath the clutter!  It only took 8 hours... after several interruptions from the 2-foot-tall tornado and his 4-foot-tall sidekick, both of whom, you know, actually need attending to for things like eating, toileting, sleeping, and entertaining.

In the end, the kitchen looked and *felt* as refreshing as the warm breezes wafting through the open windows on a lovely, warm, spring day.  Of course, the sink didn't get bleached.  And the banana muffins didn't made.  And the floors remind me more of a sandy beach (emphasis *sand*) than the lovely hardwoods they are.  Now, finally, I could cook dinner: leftovers!

As for that recepticle for later distribution... it's a laundry basket overflowing that has been placed in another room, blending in nicely with the other mountains of "things-I'll-get-to-later."  But at least I can close the door!