Intervention: A Mother’s Tale of Its Triumphs and Sorrows

Are you familiar with Intervention, the disturbing A&E show where people confront their addictions with the help of their friends and families through drug and alcohol intervention?

Last week, I staged an intervention. For myself.

My catalyst was a visit with my dear friend Stephanie in California over Spring Break. She is admittedly obsessive about tidiness and the result is a beautiful, orderly home.

And then I returned to mine.

While I get a passing grade for cleanliness I am a beauty-school dropout as it pertains to organization. Before my bags were even unpacked, I resolved to make a change. I started by moving our storage cubby of toys in the family room upstairs to the children’s bedroom, ridding the entire main level of toys. What I didn’t post on Craiglist, I donated to A.R.C, recycled or threw in the trash.

But it didn’t stop there. Our home has limited storage space and the root of our problems can be found in
The Room of Doom. Most houses have one. You know: the place where you dump every random object you can’t be bothered to put away. Ours is our storage room. When we finished our basement two years ago, it became the resting ground for not only food items but building materials, party favors and the odd cat or two.

My husband and I have been resolving to clean it for several months so I decided I would surprise him by tackling the onerous task myself. How delighted he would be to arrive home to such a great surprise! It wasn’t easy but I was a woman on a mission. After several hours, the difference was staggering.

The Shameful Before:

The Glorious After:

Jubilantly, I hauled numerous items to the garbage and loaded two overflowing donation bags in the trunk of my SUV. There was another large bag near our front door so I decided to close the garage door and haul the other bag from the front.

The only problem is I had forgotten that I had left the trunk of my SUV open.

An open trunk + a closed garage door = a scenario you do not want to envision.

Let’s just say my husband held a different kind of Intervention when he returned home.

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM.

I’m still here

I’m decompressing after the most amazing vacation of my children’s lives aboard the Disney Wonder, followed by a whirlwind trip to Disneyland. Posting may be sporadic as I play catch-up and as my dear husband adds social media clients to my already too-long to-do list. In the interim, here are a few photos of the fun:



Note: This picture of Bode is a new favorite. Never has this boy reminded me more of his ice cream-loving father than in this photo.

Rest assured, I will be sharing fun day-by-day anecdotes of our trip and on Monday, I will talk about the intervention I launched upon our return.

Have a great weekend!

XOXOXOX

I know he’s driving me nuts!

Bode is going through an extremely annoying phase. Everything he says has to be prefaced by, “Do you know something?”

And I mean everything.

My responses are varied but usually I say, “Yes, I know everything.” Undaunted, he blabbers on. The other day, he and his BFF Seanie had an entire conversation that had to be prefaced with “do you know something” each time they spoke.

It was the longest playdate ever.

Jamie hit his limit the other day when Bode was trying to get his attention.

Bode: “You know something?”

Jamie: “Stop saying that! Just say ‘Hey Daddy.’”

Bode: “OK. Hey Daddy, do you know something?”

Kids say the darndest things (what are yours saying?

Oh. My. Gosh. I think someone should write a book on the funny things that kids say. My friend Becky posted this hilarious vignette based on a conversation she had with her 3-year-old daughter, Rosie:

“Rosie drew a picture of a mountain this morning. I asked her what the name of the mountain was. She said ‘Rocky Mountain PBS Kids.’”

My friend Dave’s 5-year-old daughter Sienna said this to her friend during their carpool: “There are a lot of Santas. I even saw one in Seattle.”

The other day, I overheard my 4-year-old son Bode, exasperated at waiting for Hadley, say: “1, 2, don’t make me say 3!!!”

I have no idea where he learned that. :)

Here’s another one. In order to get anywhere on time CLICK TO READ ON AT MILEHIGHMAMAS.COM