My Husband's Crap

A frustrated wife and mom decides to document her husband's crap. She is joined by several other frustrated bloggers living with packrats and slobs.
Photos document clutter and unfinished chores along with dates in an effort to prove that she is right and he is wrong.
Please do not assume to understand the relationships between the contributors and their spouses based on the content of this blog.

Monday, August 10, 2009


Sometimes I think about just surrendering. I mean, what's the point? This summer has been especially hard--honestly its been longer than this summer, its been since I went back to work last summer. I'm not home to stay on top of all the crap, his or the kids.

He works from home and has had the children all summer while I've been at work each day. He has a friend that comes and helps him work and often the friend brings his young stepdaughter. Then there are the neighbor kids that come over and the cousins when the kids aunt comes over to help watch them.

NONE of them pick up after themselves.


We left on a trip this morning and the house was in a shambles--and before this summer, there is no way I would have left it that way. At least the dishes were clean.

Sometimes I have to choose my battles and weigh what is worth fighting over. My husband works from home which means that we have a lot of flexibility. It means someone is at home so the kids can be home. It also means that he gets to do some pretty cool stuff because of what his job is. Like right now, we have a new Dodge Caravan SXT on loan from Chrysler for a family trip to Detroit for the Woodward Dream Cruise--a big deal car show. We are driving it--and its fully loaded, I'm writing this post from the highway because the damn minivan has internet--to St. Louis where we will spend the night, take a ride to the top of the St. Louis Arch and take a ride on a river boat down the Mississippi. For Free, simply because my husband is a writer and will be publishing several magazine articles about this trip and the car show, as well as blog posts online.

In Chicago we will visit more sites--including world-class museums that I have dreamed of visiting for as long as I have known they existed. Then on to Detroit where we will have a tour of GM's private car museum, and passes to the Henry Ford Museum and Greenfield Village. Did I mention there is a 2010 Dodge Challenger awaiting us in Detroit? We will drive it around for the car show next weekend, then return it and drive the Caravan back home where we will have it for another week before they come pick it up and we return to our plain ol' Chevy Uplander without all the bells and whistles.

Sometimes you have to take the crap with the good--especially when the crap is a result of or allows us to experience so much good.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Assvice and Judgmental Biotches

Nobody likes either one, and I've had my fair share here over the years. Even with relatively low traffic and sporadic postings, I still get a few trolls or near trollish comments.

And since I haven't had the time or energy to post an update--the house and yard are still a mess, just better in some areas and worse in others--I'll share some of my favorite comments. But I refuse to link back to anyone--even if they had the guts to post a url.

(I'll get a new post up, when I get a chance to take pictures and upload them.)

Codzilla said...

Wow, for the amount of time and effort it took to document and post this stuff on the web, you could have made a real dent in that mess.

I realize I probably won't see this comment make it past the moderator and there's something to be said for venting, but seriously.....claim one room and tell him ANY crap left in there unattended will be thrown out. Once that is established, reclaim one room at a time until all his crap is in his-only space.

And then, for the sake of your relationship, leave him alone. You will not change him and you will only do damage by invading his space. He's obviously comfortable with this.

You have to admit, at the end you refer to it as "our crap".

Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said...


Wow for the amount of time and effort it took you to read this post and leave a comment you sure didn't read the top of the page.

Don't assume to understand the relationship I have with my husband based on this blog. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I refuse to treat my husband like a child. It is his house too. I'm not going to throw out his stuff unless it is very clearly trash--and even he won't dispute whether it is trash or not.

I'd do more harm to my relationship by doing that than by posting a few pictures and a description of them in a vent on this blog. Which he knows about and simply rolls his eyes over.

Anonymous said...

I am a million times worse than your husband.

Women see something like 40% more detail than men. that's why insignificant things klike this drive them crazy.

Kiss your hubby and straighten the stuff out if it bothers you so much

Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said...

I would love to take care of this crap myself, I really would. But its all his and he gets mad if its messed with. I don't know what half of it is and where it needs to go.

And I'm NOT HIS MAID nor am I his mother.

Anonymous said...

you are one selfish woman! Maybe you should read "the proper care and feeding of husbands" by dr. laura your husband would thank you.

Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said...

Wow, I guess someone doesn't know how to read. Under the header it says:

Please do not assume to understand the relationships between the contributors and their spouses based on the content of this blog.

Furthermore, if you can't let people know who you are, don't leave comments. I thought I had banned those kinds of comments. I'll have to fix that right away. I can't stand cowards.

And another thing. My husband is a grown man. He can pick up after himself. He's not a pet or a child. I am not his maid. Therefore I am quite sure that a book titled the "Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands" is just not for us or our relationship. We are a bit more evolved than that.

ShutUpEd said...

Gee, in the time it took to snap those pictures and do all that complaining, I think you could have cleaned that up that mess instead.

Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said...

Yeah but then I wouldn't have as much fun giving him a hard time now would I?

The Blogging Gourmet said...

Ummmm... I am sure you are all going to think I am crazy or just a moron, but I would suggest that you all pick up a copy of "The Surrendered Wife"

Maybe if you read it and try employing some of the suggestions your husbands will pick up their stuff and not tune you out when you start nattering.

Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said...

Hmm, just went to the website for the book and took the relationship quiz:

I scored an 84. The results state:

Your marriage is very intimate and passionate. You found a man you respect, and the two of you have a positive impact on each other. This union is a healthy mix of individuality and togetherness. You're quick to apologize, and he adores you for it."

Blogging Gourmet, please don't assume to understand the relationships we have with our husbands based on this website. I personally choose not to be my husband's maid or his mother, therefore I won't pick up after him. As I have stated in the very first post on this site, I have tried every tactic from the beginning of our marriage from being nice and sweetly reminding him of the things he overlooks or forgets to pick up to nagging him--because he asked me to. The fact is that I expect my husband to respect me and my efforts as a homemaker as well as the environment we are raising our children in. I'll shut up now, as it stands this is long enough to deserve a post of its own.

And now it has one.

~Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

I think Crap is exploding out of my house.

In my last post I showed you the progress we were making in moving my husband's shop crap to our garage and the storage barn, and the overflow that was resulting inside the house. This post is an update now that everything has been moved to our property, with photos as usual, so that you may truly appreciate the full magnitude of the crap.

We begin outside where much of his crap is located. Open the garage door and what do we find? (Everyone say hello to Sugar's behind.)

EVERYTHING, it would seem. I mean, looking at these photos, you must wonder how there could possibly be more.

A few other angles to give you a complete view.

(From inside looking out the kitchen door. Say hi to Hank!)

Yes, it really does go all the way back, into each corner.

Backing out of the garage you will see we have quite a bit of overflow. As far as I am concerned that shop cannot be built soon enough, and yet it will probably not be built until the end of the summer at the soonest.

Somebody reserve my padded room, now, because I'm going to go nuts.

The crap spills around the corner between the house and the barn. He says there is room in the barn for some of the things that are in the garage right now. We had to hastily unload everything into the garage last week due to the storms that rolled through.

What's that against the side of the house under the carcass of the bench seat springs and hood from the 1951 Ford that is in the garage?

Oh, there are the bunnies!

At least they get some shade out this deal.

Then there's the stove (and various other crap).

He insists that he's going to use it for a project. Don't ask. I couldn't begin to explain it. That effin' stove makes me more nuts than all the car parts.

It even makes me even more nuts than this:

The truck has been sold and is waiting for transport. The car was intended to be a drag racing car for Pinks! That's on hold for now. The rest of that crap is supposed to be for building his shop building.

Here is where some of the children's bikes and outdoor toys have to stay for now. There is more on the porch too.

The ugly gray book display shelf will either be moved indoors to a child's bedroom (if I can find the room) or possibly be sold in a garage sale. We picked it up along with a lot of other crap at a school auction, like the upholstered benches under that formica counter top he's planning to use to build a work bench.

Along with those children's chairs and the other ugly green chair and the blue tool box in the driveway picture from above. Here's a reminder so you don't have to scroll back up.

No need for thanks, it's what I'm here for.

What's that on the porch?

It's a microwave, of course! Supposedly it works. It's going in the garage sale too.

Next is the kitchen where we find the table top actually exists.

Some of the items were actually put away in the attic storage.

But the rest were simply moved to the floor and stacked by the cabinet where he normally piles his smaller crap. As you can see, no progress on that counter.

There are only a few things on this counter top that don't belong. I found a home for all my bisque that was sitting there when last I posted.

He's recently taken to leaving things sitting on this antique lingerie chest. I know his recliner sits beside it, but if he's not sitting here his drink shouldn't be either. Please note the peeled veneer. My children can be thanked for that. GRRR.

Moving upstairs.

Oh, wait! That is actually our youngest child's room. It's a mess. Like father like son, I always say.

The three and half year old is going to be losing his bedroom in the next couple of weeks. He's moving into his older brother's room, which is significantly larger, by the way. They shared a room at our old house and I didn't want them to have to share again, but we have to do something until we can get my husband's shop built, and eventually add on an office to that shop--and that's years down the road at this point.

This isn't working for me.

Why yes that is my bra hanging on the handles of that chest of drawers.

And the bottom drawer is missing from my husband's chest of drawers because five weeks ago, one of our cats moved her litter of kittens to hide under it. They have been living in our bedroom ever since. They are going to be getting kicked out when we start moving everything.

Then there's my husband's desk. For the love of sweet Georgia Brown.

I want our bedroom to be a bedroom, a haven and a retreat. So my husband's desk and all of his office related crap, like the magazines stacked on the bedside table, and the boxes stacked up in the corner, will be moved into the our youngest child's bedroom. Luckily right now, he's excited about moving back in with his older brother. The six and half year old, however, had to be convinced.

My desk (currently in living room), file cabinets (also in the living room as well as in my closet where I can't get to it) and those black book shelves from our bedroom will also be moved into the office. I have a thesis to write this summer and I cannot see me writing it in the living room.

Converting our youngest son's bedroom into an office will solve many of the clutter issues inside the house, provide my husband and I with more private and efficient workspaces, and I hope it will also provide my six and half and three and half year old sons with some companionship that will strengthen their relationship and turn it into a friendship that goes beyond the sibling bond.

As for everything outside? A garage sale is planned for this weekend for a small percentage of our crap, and in a couple of weeks, my husband will be past his deadline on his most recent book, so that he can get some of that outdoor crap organized.

Or else, I won't have to worry about writing that thesis because I'll be living in a padded room.

~Sleeping Mommy

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

We need $10,000 STAT!

Seriously, we have to get $10,000 as soon as possible or my nerves are going to suffer from the stress of dealing with this.

We are moving the contents of the shop my husband rents (20' X 75') to our two car garage (20'x 20'). Do the math. It's impossible.

So, we bought a storage barn with lofts (10' x 16') and we moved everything that can be moved indoors inside. Now we have to find homes for this stuff.

This is his usual pile of crap on the counter. Sometimes I think that no amount of extra space will cure him of piling this crap on the kitchen counter.


This is a broken drawer that I would normally put in the garage or his shop to wait to be fixed. Right now it's in the living room. He's too busy moving stuff and working to fix it right now. I don't even have CLOSET space to hide this anymore.


The bisque is mine. It was in the garage waiting for me to have the time to paint it and access to a kiln to fire it. Since we moved last year, we don't have my sisterinlaw's kiln anymore and she hasn't had it hooked up. Now I have to find some place for it.


The kitchen table. Most of this is going upstairs to our bedroom--somewhere. Ha! (It hasn't changed since my last post).



We moved some of it to the barn, but not too much because that barn has to hold a lot of car parts and other car care and restoration supplies.


He's not finished moving everything yet. We have no idea how we will fit everything in the garage and the barn. He has to work out of the garage, so it can't be crammed full. He needs the space to work on his projects so he can write his magazine articles, or we don't eat, let alone have a roof over our heads.




These photos don't even include the outside of the house right now. The porch and patio is loaded with my gardening supplies and the kids' bikes and outside toys. There are car tires by the barn. There will be a couple of project cars out there too.

And, we've begun piling things up for a garage sale as soon as it STOPS STORMING.

In defense of my husband, 95% of this cannot be helped right now. We need to build a shop for him to work out of here on the property. We refuse to throw anymore money away on a rental so we have to make some sacrifices in space and working conditions for a while until we can get his shop built.

Until we get that shop built and everything moved into it, I'll be the on in the corner, curled up in a ball, developing a permanent twitch.

~Sleeping Mommy

Friday, March 14, 2008

I'll Show You Mine, If I Could ONLY Find It!

This is the "man's" dresser that my husband, Garth (not his real name) and I picked up at a flea market the first year we were married in 1990.

I don't believe we've seen the top of it, since then.

Oh, it's a lovely piece with a matching triple dresser (that's mine) and I even sewed cute little lace curtains back before the kids, you know, cured me of such domestic-like behavior.


We've already given up the rather large master bedroom to our three very ungrateful daughters (it has it's own bathroom, damnit) and they insist on mucking that up, too.

But, this post is NOT about the kids, yes?

About my husband's dresser. It sits at the entrance of a very smallish bedroom - I can touch the window sitting on the end of our bed - that has been in renovation old IS my son?

Anyway, it gets tight...quick...around here and did I mention that I'm claustrophobic?

Oh, I tried cleaning it. Even gave him a pretty basket to put things in. If you look hard enough, you'll find it. It's up there, buried under a pair of jeans I'm supposed to fix.

He thinks.

It's like Erma Bombeck said:

"Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing up is like shoveling the walk while it's still snowing."

Is it too much to ask that my husband straighten up his own crap?

As you can see, the dry wall is in desperate need of a paint job, too - but, I'll save that for another bitch mean, blog post!

Hold me.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Back By Popular Demand

Well maybe not popular demand, but at least one person asked for more regular posts, and I aim to please.

Also, I foresee a lot more crap to post about in the not-so-distant future, as we are probably going to be moving the contents of the shop my husband rents (20' x 75') to our two car garage. That's like me trying to cram my giant ass into a pair of size 10 pants. Seriously, I did the math.

So here is the current state of my husband's crap.

He got home from a two day trip out of town the night before last and this is where his backpack landed and has not moved since.


Let's see how long it takes to make it up stairs, shall we? Anyone want to start a pool? (And honey, if you are reading this, it would be nice if the jacket went upstairs to the closet too.)

Here is the usual crap on the kitchen counter. I've managed to get him to keep it on this end of the counter, except it was a much higher pile last week. It was high enough that all the mail and junk had started to slide off the counter. His solution?

(Note: Your monitor hasn't gone wonky. I disorted the mail, etc that had our names and addresses.)


Put it in a box at the other end of the counter!


Next is the dehydrator--did you think it disappeared in our move last summer? No such luck. But now we have the dehydratoer with bonus smoothie maker base!


He made the jerkey a week ago. As usual, he says he will clean it up, but I'm not holding my breath. As for the smoothie maker? He makes virgin strawberry daiquiri's nearly every other night.

And for the motherload of crap, I have to take this upstairs to our bedroom. I haven't infiltrated our private spaces since we moved from the old house last June because my biggest gripe has been crap in the public spaces. But in the interest of full disclosure of the magnitude of the crap, I can't leave out our bedroom and bathroom.

First the bathroom literature. Dude, this is no where near as bad as at the old house.

(Note the pepto--we've both been experiencing a lot of hearburn lately from all the stress.)


Wanna know why? He just moves the stacks a few feet out the door to his end table.

(Note the crumpled pile of jeans by the guitar and the socks in front of the end table. I'm not allowed to touch them or put them in the hamper--he's not done with them yet. Whatever that means.)


His dresser.


And the pile in the corner. There are boxes under all that crap that he's never unpacked and I'm not allowed to touch.


And for the piece de resistance...His desk.


How in the hell can he work in this space? I don't get it.

I just don't get it.

P.S. Any suggestions that I throw away his stuff or put it all in a box and stash it somewhere will be disregarded. I tried that in the beginning of our marriage. It caused even more problems. And as far as cleaning it up for him? I am not his mother or his keeper. I'm his lover, friend, and partner.

I'll stick to the passive aggressive approach. It's more entertaining for everyone that way.

~Sleeping Mommy

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Okay, I admit it. He wore me down.

I just gave up. Posting every single day wasn't working. And it was more work to post pictures every single day than it was worth when it doesn't even phase him. The sad thing is the only way to get him to pick up after himself is to yell and then start throwing his stuff around. Not across the room mind you, just picking them up and placing them into neat stacks hard.

Although I will admit to throwing a shoe at him in the Walmart parking lot when we were engaged and then a couple of years ago I was so angry I through a maglite at him as he walked out of the room and it put a hole through a door. But neither of those times were over cleaning.

I don't want to throw things and yell. That is why I started this blog, as a space to show my displeasure in hopes that he would finally get it.

Sadly, it has not worked. But I will continue to post pictures simply because it makes the passive-aggressive in me happy to share my husband's crap with the internets.

Husband's Crap Feb 16 2008

He likes to use the blender every night to make virgin strawberry daiquiris (yes you read that right) and he's used it so many times now the blender leaks. Yet he doesn't clean it up. Apparently that's what I'm here for.

Blender leaks yet he doesn't care

Yeah, it's blurry, I just can't find it in me to care.

More husband's crap

If only this house had a larger utility room/laundry room/backporch area. (We haven't even lived here a year yet and I'm already "if onlying" the house. Hello!) Also an office downstairs, with a door, would help too. But we needed the fourth upstairs bedroom much worse then a large laundry/utility room or an office. Sometimes priorities really suck.

Just a few hundred more square feet would solve so many of these issues along with many others, because at least then his crap would be out of sight.

Oh well, I guess I will just have to continue to post my pictures and gripes until we have enough money to add another wing. *rolls eyes*

~Sleeping Mommy