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.

Saturday, April 30, 2005

At this point

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.

~Sleeping Mommy

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

"I know where everything is...."

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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?


There are times

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?

~Sleeping Mommy

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Natural Consequences

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.

~Sleeping Mommy

Monday, April 18, 2005

Monday Morning Report

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.

~Sleeping Mommy

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

There's a Hole In My Ceiling

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.


Day Three documenting my husband's crap

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.

~Sleeping Mommy

Some Husbands Take the Crap to a WHOLE New Level

Hat tip to Pantrygirl. She left a comment about this article.

~Sleeping Mommy

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Today's Log of Crap

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.

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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.
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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.

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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?"

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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.

~Sleeping Mommy

Monday, April 11, 2005

The Post From Sleeping Mommy That Started It.

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.

An example:

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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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.

~Sleeping Mommy

I started the blog. This is it. This post was copied and pasted from my original blog.