He noticed the can and said, "You leaving this here in rememberance of me?" Quite a smart guy, my husband.
BTW, he threw it in the trash.
The hubby is coming home for a few days and THE EMPTY DIET COKE CAN IS STILL ON HIS NIGHTSTAND! Woot! I did knock it over trying to unplug something the other day, but I sat it right back up where it was. Go me!
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.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Posted by sherrypg at 8:24 AM
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
On Sunday morning I tidied up the living room a bit. Friday and Saturday's newspapers were still piled on the ottoman so I moved them to the couch, intending to put them into the recycling bin later.
Later that morning my husband was lounging on the couch and I asked him if he had put the papers out. "No", he replied. "I shoved them under the sofa".
The terrible thing is that I thought he was kidding, until later on when I saw the papers peeking out from under the sofa.
Posted by Jen14221 at 12:45 PM
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
I believe that all of this:
belongs in this:
with the exception of the dirty dishes. Which he dirtied by the way. They of course belong in the sink at the least and preferably the dishwasher.
His usual excuse is that there isn't enough room in the trash can and he is going to take it all outside "in a minute."
There is plenty of room in that trash can if you will notice. His excuse this time?
"I don't want to put boxes in the trash it takes up too much room."
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 8:24 AM
Monday, August 29, 2005
I haven't posted anything in a while and it's not because I haven't had anything to bitch about. Quite simply the man has been wearing me down.
But I won't let him break me. I SWEAR IT! I will not bend. I will not give in. I will not give up. I will continue to push for cleanliness and organization. As God is my witness I will never let sleeping dogs lie.
Anyway, my husband is a stacker. Case in point:
This is the top of his dresser. He just throws shit up there. I see at least three items that don't even belong in our room. They belong to the kids.
He makes no attempt at organization. He maybe cleans it off about once a year, and that is usually when I decide to rearrange the bedrooms. He doesn't realize that one of the reasons I rearrange the furniture so often is that it's my way of MAKING him clean out his stuff. It wouldn't get done any other way. I stack it all on his side of the bed and make him go through it.
Now for another extreme example of stacking and disorganization.
My husband's field of occupation is the car and home entertainment industry. Currently he's exclusively working on the car side of the market but he's always got a toe on the home side too.
He loves his field and uses it as an excuse to collect as well as an excuse to always have the top of the line (that we can afford after he's wrangled one of his famous deals) in the industry. Below you will find the clutter that can be found in our media closet.
This "closet" was originally a wet bar when we moved into our house. When he realized there was a closet with shelving and storage room in the family room he promptly did a little dance and loaded it up with the receivers, DVD players, subwoofers etc. and then ran wires through the walls and attic from the big screen and the 6.1 surround sound speaker system to the closet.
I wanted to keep it a wet bar. But I was over-ruled.
I tried to keep it organized for a while. I had all the CDs and DVDs alphabetized, but he refuses to return DVDs and CDs to their cases let alone put the cases back where he found them.
Then he kept throwing stuff in there. Usually this is where he puts stuff "for now" when I make him clean his clutter off the counters. Notice the tool box? How about the basket full of papers? Yeah, that is mail that I asked him to sort through over a month ago when I got tired of him loading every basket with junk mail instead of throwing it out. I put those baskets on the counter in an attempt to keep it organized. Instead he overloaded them with junk that could be thrown out or filed if he would just take care of it.
The paper sack towards the top? That's full of fireworks. Damn it. I didn't even realize that was still in the house. He was supposed to take that out to his shop over a month ago.
As you can see, I try to avoid opening these doors at all costs.
HONEY!!!! YOU GOT SOME 'ESPLAINING TO DO.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 9:33 AM
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Here in Lockport New York, we don't have any barrels of clothes in the basement. Here, we have the black hole of clothes on the closet floor. See example at left.
I think those are the dirty and need-to-go-to-dry-cleaners clothes, but who really knows? His bag is under there somewhere, I assume. And yes, that is a beer can on the floor there. It's empty, I checked.
And holy shit....I thought we lost the iron in the move last fall, but look where it's been this whole time....
Posted by Jen14221 at 6:16 PM
Monday, August 15, 2005
Friday, July 15, 2005
My husband took down part of our fence so he could drive the truck into the backyard and unload some sand for the pool.
But did he put the fence back up when he was done?
Uh...I don't think so.
Yeah, that's safe.
So after a week (I would have left it longer, but the neighbors got back from vacay and although their dog came traipsing through repeatedly, I didn't think the kids should.) I put it back up my damn self.
Note: Since blogger hates me and Sleeping Mommy had to totally help me with the images, it has been a three weeks since this incident took place. Guess what?
Our new mower doesn't fit through the back gate. Yeppers, the fence panel is down again. At least he put it over by the house and has the nails pointed down this time. But, I had to go take the ladder out of the pool so the neighborhood kids wouldn't go for a swim without us. Gotta luv'em.
Posted by sherrypg at 3:03 PM
Thursday, June 30, 2005
We don't have a garage. The next time we purchase a home it will have a garage. We overlooked it this last time in the interest of square footage, a HUGE storage barn in the back yard along with a two room shop.
My husband doesn't pick up after himself. That is the reason this blog was founded.
He's been working on his 1971 Buick GS convertible and I understand it takes time to finish what he is doing. However in the meantime this is what I am dealing with IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE which faces a moderately busy street. If we had a garage he would come closer to shoving all this crap back inside it and closing the door.
He's just lazy enough that he won't take his tools back to the shop inside the fenced in back yard. God forbid he have to walk 100 feet.
I've told him it will serve him right if that compressor or anything else gets stolen. When we lived at another house not far from here he refused to pick up some tires he had sitting in the drive way. They were the original wheels to the GS. They got stolen. I told him it would happen.
Let this be a record that he has been warned. He doesn't get to get bitchy when it happens again. And when it does and he tries to report it to insurance that is going to just cause more trouble. Because when he reported the wheels that caused us to not be able to get home owners insurance with ANYONE except for one company. Just because we filed a claim.
And you can almost understand it too. After all, the insurance companies want you to make an effort to TAKE CARE OF YOUR STUFF, not be careless and INVITE THE THIEVES OVER FOR DINNER practically.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 1:04 PM
Monday, June 20, 2005
Thursday, May 26, 2005
This is becoming a common phrase for me. I'm tired. Why?
My husband's crap is completely wearing me down. My standards are being continuously stripped away through sheer exhaustion. I feel like just giving up and letting the clutter monster, the packrat, the slob that is my husband take over.
I don't want to do laundry and I don't want to do the dishes (several days worth are stacking up in the sink right now) and I don't want to vaccuum or put anything away or dust or anything else. Why bother? He will just come in and trash it.
It's his responsibility to clean off the stove of the dinner dishes and put them in the sink for me to clean. These were left overnight. As usual.
We have at least five baskets/organizers to sort all of the mail and other counter clutter into. He refuses to put these things away into their approapriate place as they come in. Instead it's "I'll get to it later." Later? You mean a month from now when I stop asking nicely and start screaming about it?
The dining room table is not your storage for your stereo equipment. If the children decide to play the drums on these subs its your fault not mine.
More stereo-related clutter in the form of that box and pipe combo. It's been there for over a week now. He promised he would get it put away--10 days ago. The child's seat? Been on the porch since the day after we bought the van (mother's day weekend) because I was putting it in the the van for the baby when I discovered it was broken. I wanted to throw it away, he won't let me. Says he will do something with it. Meanwhile the baby has outgrown his infant seat carrier and needs a new car seat. the porch swing broke the same day he said he would take care of the box/pipe thing and he said he would fix it (when? in a year or ten?) and finally he went to an auction and bought those godawful candles. They are Christmas decorations. He has the worst taste in Christmas decorations and I've repeatedly told him not to buy anything without my consent.
Ah, the fan box. Been hanging around the house about a week or so.
Moving onto the bathroom. He has a drawer at least a foot deep to store all his magazines in the bathroom. These are MORE magazines piled on top of the counter. I'm so close to going in and throwing THEM ALL AWAY. DO YOU HEAR ME MY LOVE? I'M GOING TO TRASH THEM IF YOU DON'T DO SOMETHING!
And the ever present pair of boxer shorts in the bathroom. He seems to think that by putting them on the window sill that he is putting them away. NOPE. WRONG. They do not belong in the bathroom at all. Three guesses where they belong people. I bet YOU guys can get it right.
Can anyone tell I'm reaching the end of my rope? It's either going to mean my totally giving up and letting the place go to shit OR it will mean me burning the place down. Wonder which would be better?
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 8:58 AM
Monday, May 16, 2005
Dead: the mini.
The mini is the car I bought for Peter in 2001 as a birthday present. It's an antique, and as its name suggests, it's quite small. Anyway, fast-forward four years and $7000.00 later on rims and tires and paints and other assorted restoration shit and it's nothing but a cute small car in our driveway. Sitting there. Dead.
Broken: the lawnmower
Did he break the lawnmower on purpose? Somehow I think my suspicions are true. It's embarassing to have lawn this high and our neighbors are probably calling us 'the slackers' .
Beat-up: my husband
He's gonna get a knuckle sandwich if this shit doesn't get settled pretty soon.
Posted by Jen14221 at 7:00 PM
Sunday, May 15, 2005
I laid down the law this morning, er um, afternoon after I got up. I'm not doing another chore in this house until the lawn is mowed front and back.
The front was done this afternoon and the limbs hauled off. We paid a guy who was mowing a neighbor's lawn. He's promising to get the lawnmower battery replaced asap so the back can be done soon.
We will see. Meanwhile the dishes are going to continue to mount up. The laundry will go undone. The cat boxes will not be cleaned (er maybe not this one, that kind of smells). And the carpet will remain unvacuumed.
UPDATE: Front and back yard are both mowed and weedeated now. The dishes are washed in return and I never was able to stop myself from doing the laundry. Cat boxes are cleaned and the vacuuming--well that remains to be done.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 12:20 AM
Thursday, May 05, 2005
My name is Tanya (warcrygirl) and here's my contribution to My Husband's Crap.
I don't know if this qualifies or not, but this is my husband's old truck. It was having overheating issues for a while which my husband remedied by pouring water into the radiator to flush it out. Eventually it just up and died on him prompting us to buy a new truck (grrr!). He keeps telling me he's going to get the truck up and running soon. I don't know why.
The damage you see is from where he was moving the truck back onto the driveway (after one of his flushings) and with the driver's side door open he backed up and caught a small tree with the driver's side door. The tree pushed the driver's side door forward and shattered the driver's side window. Of course my first reaction was to point and bray like a donkey; the neighbors just laughed politely and pretended not to see the whole thing.
Hubby was not pleased.
So here it sits, a tribute to White Trash everywhere nestled securely in my driveway. My FIL has promised to tow it away to White Trash Land (a collection of crap in his back yard out in the country) but has yet to get it done.
Posted by warcrygirl at 10:56 AM
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Just to introduce myself - I'm Jen14221 and I'm 35. I'm a mom to baby Will and a wife to Peter. Peter has loads of crap. Tons. Enormous amounts.
When I first met and dated and eventually married the man, we lived in Boston. In teensey-weensey little apartments. There was crap galore but it was somehow contained.
About six months ago we moved to the Buffalo area and now we have a nice big house and a driveway and Oh My God a garage. In Boston, no one has a garage. You have to park on the street, and get dinged up and broken into. And that sucks.
So now I have a nice big garage. Where Peter likes to keep his crap. And there's no room for my car.
There's the refrigerator - see it in the back? - that he has promised (six months now) to bring down to the basement so I can actually use it. See those boxes? Been there since NOVEMBER. The kayak is a new one. Just installed onto the garage floor a few days ago.
Posted by Jen14221 at 12:19 PM
Saturday, April 30, 2005
I just want the lawn mowed and cleaned up and the branches hauled off from his trimming the tree last week.
Its bad enough that I've had someone stop by nearly every other day looking for a job mowing our lawn. We are that neighbor on the block. Again.
I'd also just like to have him home. This past two weeks of working 15 and 16 hour days has been rough on him, the kids and me. Having him not here and not making a mess is not worth not having him here. You know?
I miss my partner and friend. But not my husband's crap.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 11:09 PM
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
That's what I hear when I beg and plead for his desk to be cleaned. What a shit hole. Note the handheld GPS unit. I guess this is so he can tell if he's coming or going. He also has a huge box of Thunderbolt .22 rounds. Never know when you might need to blast a cap into your monitor if it's failing to co-operate with you. Plus he has assorted fishing line, scraps of paper with vitally important info on them and what appears to be a roll of nickels.
I never can find a thing on his desk and when he can't find something, guess who gets blamed?
Posted by Sheri at 2:42 PM
when I think I should just give up. But I don't have it in me. I don't have that much TOLERANCE in me that is.
On the bright side after issuing a threat and a deadline to throw away the dehydrator, he actually washed it yesterday morning before going to work. It is now back in the cabinet where it belongs.
He's remembering his boxers more often than not.
My breakfast bar? Totally trashed, as usual. I will be posting a photograph soon, if it is not taken care of soon. I am expecting company tomorrow sometime (my stepmother and a great-aunt) so it will be taken care of or I will be throwing everything away that is on it.
You'd think he would figure out that about once a week when I clean I will be extra irritable about his pack-rat, cluttering ways. It makes me feel taken for granted when I work hard only to have him trash my effort with his clutter. He says he understands of course. But actions do speak louder than words, don't you think?
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 10:01 AM
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
No progress yesterday. Dehydrator is still there. Counter is still cluttered. Oh and a new kitchen towel is in the living room. Right now its on the couch.
But last night, something happened I warned him would happen if he didn't pick up his clothes off the bedroom floor. I've told him at least three times. But you know, the first three times no one ever seems to hear me around here.
He was so pissed. Said he was going to "Kill that damn dog." I told him no he wasn't. The dog is a puppy still and is simply doing what comes naturally to him. If he's going to leave his clothes on the floor he has to expect that sooner or later something like this would happen. After all, this is why we keep our shoes picked up off the floor--or at least I do.
He didn't like hearing that the puppy isn't accountable for his actions, he's still learning and growing out of the phase. However my husband is accountable for his actions. These are the natural consequences of leaving your clothes in the floor where a chewing puppy can get a hold of them.
I was told to just be quiet.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 8:12 AM
Monday, April 18, 2005
On the plus side, he trimmed what he could of the tree off of our roof. That's a gold star for him. And he spent time with us as a family on Saturday (after I freaked about his plan to work on his car--AGAIN). We did some shopping in Oklahoma City and visited his family briefly.
Last night he finally got rid of this box off the front porch after I bitched and nagged him into submission at 11:00pm at night.
He picked up the kitchen towel on Friday I think. Again only after I nagged him into submission.
He picked up his boxers from the bathroom this morning. Again only after I nagged him into submission.
Wasn't I supposed to just document it here and keep my mouth shut? Yeah turns out I don't have it in me to do that. The longer I keep my mouth shut about things the worse the explosion.
The dehydrater of course has not budged.
I'm catching up on the cleaning around the house today. First load of laundry is in the washer, as is the first load of dishes in the dishwasher. I'll have a few more things I am sure for him to pick up and put away this evening. The bar between the kitchen and living room alone is enough to send me over the edge.
The thing is, I may be a stay at home mom and part of that job includes doing housework. However it does not include being my husband's personal maid. I'll do the dishes. I will do the laundry. I will vacuum and dust and clean the glass and the counters and the bathrooms. But I will not, I repeat will NOT, pick up after my husband. He is a grown up. Nobody has to go around telling me to pick up after myself do they? Yeah, I know he is a man and they have blinders or reflective vision or whatever when it comes to seeing these things that need picked up. Whatever. In case you couldn't tell, I'm not in the mood for excuses this morning.
I could bitch about a few other issues but this is a place to bitch about my husband's crap and his failure to pick it up. Nothing more. So I'll clench my teeth and hit publish now.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 8:32 AM
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
For the past four years there has been a hole in my kitchen ceiling. My beloved put it there. You see, once upon a time our upstairs bathtub would not drain. We have an old house and the plumbing is nothing if not interesting. My Hubby and his friend decided that to fix the problem, they would have to take apart the pipes. Unbeknownst to me, they determined that the best way to go about this was through the floor by hacking a hole about 2 feet by 2 feet in my plaster kitchen ceiling.
Lo and behold, they couldn't quite get to the pipes from below. After a week and a half of Beavis and Butthead trying to figure out the problem (all the while, I was unable to use my upstairs tub), I finally called a plumber. A half an hour and a drain snake and the problem was resolved. The tub problem, that is. I still had a hole in my ceiling.
After "gently reminding" him for several weeks, he "fixed" the problem by taping a white trash bag up there with duct tape. I'm serious. This caused me to have a nervous twitch that has still not completely gone away. Beavis swore up and down that he and Butthead were going to replaster my ceiling and I would never know the hole had been there.
Six to eight months later (after more "gentle reminding" from me) the problem was "taken care of." My beloved screwed a white posterboard over the hole. And thus I STILL have a hole in my kitchen ceiling. Ladies, I could not make this stuff up.
Posted by Cattiva at 8:43 PM
UPDATE: I apolgize for any inconvenience to those of you who passed through and encountered an exceeded bandwidth image instead of the images posted. Thank you for your patience and for returning. It should not happen again.
The boxers have been put away.
The dish towel is still on the floor.
The dehydrator is still on the counter and unwashed.
The box is still on the porch.
After the first day of posting, the case of tools was taken to work and the coke can was put away, or drank and put in the trash or something. Whatever so long as it isn't on the counter. After the second day, the boxers have found a home other than the bathroom.
We are making progress. Slow, painful progress but progress nonetheless.
But no matter how slow or painful I love my husband.
Soon we will address the clutter on the counter and the lawn that desperately needs mowing.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 6:36 PM
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
First of all the stack of tshirts is gone. I don't know what he did with them but I don't see them so for the moment I am indeed gratified. This blog is justified. Snort. Either that or it's going to backfire big. (Don't get any ideas honey.)
The kitchen towel has only moved about 10 inches from its location yesterday.
Next, nothing has been done with the dehydrator. See previous post for details regarding how long its been sitting there. UPDATE: Yes, the coke can is gone. I forgot to mention it. He did something with it, I don't know what but it's not on the counter or anywhere else it isn't supposed to be.
The case of tools has been taken off the porch. He took it to work. The box of crap that needs to go to the shop in the backyard? Still on the porch where I moved it after the kids started getting into it on the dining room table yesterday.
Finally we have a pair of boxers. This is the one thing that actually embarrassed my highly-un-embarrassable husband yesterday when he read the post. He says I can't believe I would post such a thing. I asked him "why?" and "how long have you known me and known me not to follow through on my threats?"
Not sure if this is the same pair from yesterday and he simply moved them to the back of the toilet or if he actually put the others away and this is a new pair.
Oh and he's threatening to post pictures of my underwear on the internet. I reminded him that I don't leave them laying around for days on end like some people.
Now, I had a lot of interest from commenters on my other blog about being a contributor to this kind of blog. So if you are interested please email me. If I do not already know you or read your blog there may be a waiting period. Please be patient.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 10:36 AM
Monday, April 11, 2005
What do you all think? I'm threatening to start a second blog.
It would be devoted to my husband. To his lack of follow through on picking up his crap around here. I would post pictures daily of the items he strings through the house. I would document their positions daily with photographs until they are returned to their rightful place--or at least not in the house if that's where they don't belong.
These shirts were placed on this half-wall between the kitchen and living room on Friday evening (you know, that day I spent working so hard to get the house clean.) His excuse? He was going to see if his friend who was visiting on Saturday and Sunday wanted them. Obviously he didn't want them. They are still in the same place today. So that's Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday all in the same place.
These items have been moved to the front porch by me. Simply to keep them out of the children's reach. They are work and shop items. They do not belong on the dining room table. And they don't belong on the front porch either, however I had to remove them to keep the children out of anymore trouble then they had already gotten into. These items have been on the table since at least Sunday afternoon and are now on the porch. Still not where they belong.
This item is my husband's toy. It's a dehydrator. He used it a week ago. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and say last Monday (even though I'm thinking it was the weekend). He made his beef jerky, which he is very stingy in sharing by the way. Now he has to wash it. It takes up too much room in the dishwasher. It takes two loads by itself. I'm not washing it. That is his job. I reminded him this morning. It has been on the counter for a week as of today. The coke sitting next to it has been there since Friday. It is unopened. He put it in the freezer and forgot it, then took it out and left it to thaw. Pretty sure it's thawed by now.
One of my beloved kitchen towels. He's ruined nearly every single one. He thinks they are his personal napkins and rags. This one has been on the living room floor since yesterday that I know of.
Boxers. They went to the bathroom floor this morning after his shower. They will be joined by at least four more pair this week, each pair getting shoved underneath the edge of the bathroom counter until I finally tell him to pick them up. Let's see how long it takes without me saying anything, shall we?
I warned him it would come to this if he didn't start picking these things up in a timely manner. After five years of this nonsense, with me trying every tactic I can think of with limited, moderate, yet not entirely satisfying, results this is my next step. I've asked nicely and gotten no where but "in a minute" and "I'll get to it" and "I'm sorry, I forgot, but I'll do it later." He's told me to nag him about these things because he has a bad memory. And when I do nag, he gets mad. So I have decided that if I have to deal with this at least I should get some blog fodder out of it. Don't you agree? And if you don't agree now is not the time to step forward and say so. Just nod and smile. That's it. You've got the right idea.
So what do you all think? Should I start a whole blog simply devoted to this subject? I'd link it here of course. Or I could keep it here.
Can you tell I'm irritated right now? I seriously need Calgon at this point to take me away. But yeah, those moments are few and far between. Better yet, Calgon can come take Snoring Daddy and the kids away, while I crawl into bed and read a good novel in between naps.
Just for a day or two, I'm not that heartless.
I started the blog. This is it. This post was copied and pasted from my original blog.
Posted by Sleeping Mommy at 3:31 PM