I'm OK now!

Hey. I am ok now. We have set a mutual deadline (His idea) to get the clutter cleaned up by the end of this year. That gives us four months. I can laugh again. And smile.

(I'm not called cyclothymic cister for nothing).

Signing Off for Awhile

This site has been therapeutic for me. I have laughed and commiserated with each of you. I was able to make light of my own husband’s crap, lack of organizational skills and lack of motivation to fix the problem using humor to overcome the distress.

Now my posts have taken on a different tone. I can’t laugh about my situation any longer, which does not seem in keeping with the purpose of this site.

So since my anger out-weighs my ability to laugh, I will not post for a while.

Thank you all for your support and best wishes for overcoming your own messy situations. I will still check in from time to time to see how you are doing.

You can still read me at Cyclothymic Cister.

Later. . .

Jill/Cyclothymic Cister

When is Crap not crap?

(please pardon the crappy picture--the quality, not the contents)

Sigh... I guess when the crap is now a part of self-employment. At least that's the current excuse.

I still think there is no reason why this couldn't be a bit neater--and the stacking on the dining room table and under it just doesn't need to happen. He has a shop out back he could take these boxes too. Not to mention the intake manifold and other various car parts.

Someday. Someday I will have a house with an attached two car garage that I can at least throw this crap into when it gets to me. Someday...

~Sleeping Mommy

My Pride is Hurt

A co-worker who passes by my house everyday on his way home said, "Your place always looks like you having a damn yard sale. Me and everybody else that passes by thinks so."

Also, sometime back, a co-worker's wife said something that got back to me. She said our house is so nice. Too bad it has to be so junky.

Cyclothymic Cister

Klutter Kills a Marriage

Well, counseling was going well. Then, a huge setback. Instead of getting clutter cleaned up and finishing projects, DH says he wants a motorcycle. I don’t care what he does, mind you, so long as we have the money and the mundane things are taken care of first. So we had a big blow up. He is a classic example of passive-aggressive. He tells me that he wants me to be happy and to just tell him what needs to be done. Then he resents like hell when I ask him to do something. So to get even, instead of coming out and saying he is angry, he sabotages any hope of projects getting done by spending time and money on foolish things.

Without telling you all the sorted details of our domestic disputes, I will say that I calmly and matter-of-factly, proceeded to take a razor knife and cut up the carpet. It is filthy, cheap, supposed to be off white, but is now grayish brown and worn out. He took pictures, as if I were insane. I ignored him. I have pictures of my own, of his messes. (I took them several months ago, intending to post them on this site, but I felt like that would be betraying him. Blehhh).

So, our flooring is now sub-floor, which actually looks better than the old carpet. And tomorrow, a friend who just happens to be a professional painter (who owes me a favor) is coming over to help me paint the interior of the house. (And painters always bring beer, yeh). Then I will hang pictures and shelves and get things in order. Then, I will clean out the garage even if it means getting rid of things we would ordinarily keep. I will clean up the driveway and the tool shed. If I have any extra money, I will buy a pre-fab plastic out building to put overflow tools in. I will do it without help from DH. After all, I did it when I was single. I will not let him make me feel helpless anymore.

Cyclothymic Cister

Pink Tools

A friend suggested a way to keep my husband from using my tools, that is, my shovel, rack and hoe. Paint the handles pink. And write, “I am gay” on them. (See the May 2, 2006 post about Tools).

Cylothymic Cister

Cleaning up the Crap—NOT!

Weekends are hard. Especially when I get enthusiastic about cleaning up my husband’s crap. Why do I set myself up for a fall? I should know by now that cleaning up the crap is a daunting task. But every other weekend, or so, I go through this. Then half way through the day I get so crazy that I end up calling my sister and telling her the same ol’ story. The clutter is driving me crazy!

Yes, I’m in counseling. We are trying to analyze MY personality. That is all fine and good. But the truth still remains that it is my husband’s crap that is making me insane! When I trace the thread of what has me so upset, the tread always leads back to the clutter.

DH did volunteer to go to counseling, too. So far he hasn’t. His work has been especially busy right now and he hasn’t had the time to make it to the appointments. But I am not going to let him off the hook. You see, I am afraid as time goes by, he will mistakenly think that OFFERING to go the counseling is the SAME THING as going. Not so, DH. Your time is coming.

Jill/Cyclothymic Cister

Don't "Mess" With Me--I'll Tell

I'm in counseling now, and it has a lot to do with my husband's messes. He has volunteered to go to counseling as well, as he said he knows he has problems. I hope we get to the bottom of why he can't organize his crap. Or at least maybe I will be able to deal with it better. But when I tell the counselor, "My life is a mess." I mean, the kitchen is a mess, the family room is a mess, the office is a mess, the garage is a mess, even the driveway is a mess. So to my DH I'd like to say, "Please quit messing with me"!

Cylothymic Cister

Can the Coffee Cans

He did it again. I tossed an empty coffee can in the trash, hiding it inside an empty cat food bag that was destined for the curb. Evidently Dear Husband found the can and took it out of the trash because the coffee can was sitting on the kitchen counter AFTER the garbage truck had come and gone. I picked up the can, handed it to DH and said, "Please take this to the garage with the others." He said, "You weren't supposed to see that." I said, "Neither were you." He said, "I only have three--three dozen." He said, "Someday you'll thank me when you need one."
Hmmm. Wonder when that will be? When I need a place to store his ashes? (Just kidding).

cyclotymic cister

Take it to the Tool Shed

My husband never puts his tools away. Never. So when I go to use a shovel or a hoe for gardening, first, I cannot find one without searching the yard, the garage, the truck, the shed. Then when I find one, the handle is splintered due to being in the weather. Before I married my husband (anniversary next week--six years) I had my own tools. One particular shovel I had for a least 15 years. It had the smoothest handle and the sharpest, cleanest point. Now my tools are mixed with his. It is an ongoing argument. When I mentioned this problem again the other day, dear husband got mad. He said if I wanted to take the time to put the tools away then I could do it. You know, I just always assumed that putting away tools was PART of the job! Anyway, the next day I googled "husband won't put tools away." and I found this blog spot. You guys are an inspiration! Your posts even inspired me to start my own blog.

I don't think I can ever get my husband to change. The clutter and the disarray drives me insane. I walk around in circles due to the confusion of things not being in place. My sense of creativity has been stifled.

It is a comfort, somehow,to know that I'm not alone. Thank all you fellow sufferers for coming forward.

Jill/Cyclothymic Cister ( your newest member)

Defeated?

Most days I feel like I've given up. My husband's crap has taken over and now he has the excuse that he's making money with it all. And yeah, that maybe true but it makes it no less annoying.

He writes magazine articles for car magazines now. And he gets all kinds of stuff shipped to the house from various manufacturers for him to use in articles. And it's all over. My dining room table and front room floor are covered with his boxes. The kitchen counter and bar are covered with his paperwork.

What can a woman do? Other than bitch and moan and blog about it?

~Sleeping Mommy

Diet Coke Can Man

At least the cans will be in Arabic this time...

- sherrypg

Read earlier posts here and here.

Let this be a warning to him.

Despite my lovey-dovey previous post I just want to say to my darling husband:

I have just spent the last three days cleaning out the kitchen and rearranging the cabinets. I've dedicated THREE entire cabinets plus two junk drawers (the third is for MY stuff not yours) just for you to use for all your crap that you INSIST on piling all over the breakfast bar. There is even additional room under the breakfast bar for your tool boxes and various other larger crap. USE THEM OR LOSE IT. This simply translates as "if I find your crap on the counter than it's mine to toss." AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO DO IT.

And one other thing. KEEP YOUR CRAP OUT OF THE CABINET MY CRYSTAL IS IN!

Thank you. And good day, good evening and good night.

~Sleeping Mommy

My husband cleaned his messy, messy desk (seen here) by moving all the stuff he didn't need to the old downstairs bathroom!

~Cathy

Because he WANTS our son to get electrocuted....

My husband is such a busy man that he apparently cannot take 3 seconds out of his day to replace the electrical outlet's safety cap after charging his laptop's battery. It's a good thing my 2 year-old does not routinely wander around sticking forks into outlets.

-Jen14221

Almost perfect.

So often he leaves his things lying around, cluttering every flat surface. I get irritated and frustrated and just plain mad. If it weren't for the clutter he accumulates he would be damn near perfect.

I guess he's perfect for me no matter what anyway.

But if that's my only complaint I'm pretty lucky. Especially when I have a guy who brings me these.

I love you Snoring Daddy, even when you irritate the hell out of me with all your crap. Now do me a favor and put your stuff away.

Sleeping Mommy

Nobody touch Dad's stuff.
He puts it where he wants it.
Crap is everywhere.

Cathy

I wouldn't mind the tools sitting out all the time if they had been used in the past YEAR!
- Cathy

where did you put my shoes????

In the photo below, note where the little girls have put their cowboy boots and Dora shoes, and then note where my 32 year old engineer husband put his shoes, despite having seven empty spaces for his own shoes. --Lovingly submitted by Dusti, Insane Preschool Mom.

Husbands have two types of crap. This is an example of type A (think up your own word to go with the letter). Type A crap is stuff that husbands are just too important to clean. They may claim that they are going to clean it, but they never do because they are sooo busy.
- Cathy

Husbands have two types of crap. This is an example of type B (think up your own word to go with this letter). Type B crap is stuff that only husbands are allowed to touch. Wives and children should never, ever touch this valuable crap. It is organized in a way that only husbands can understand. Moving it even an inch will cause hysteria as the sense of order in the husband's universe is suddenly disturbed.
- Cathy

Progress, I suppose

For those of you who asked, no the fish never did smell. It was in the tank of water and you couldn't smell a thing coming from it--maybe because of the filter?

He finally flushed the contents of the tank. It took yet another comment about it from me yesterday while we were out shopping referencing how he never does anything I ask him to and how he obviously doesn't care how I feel. He denied it vehemently and asked for proof. Stupid stupid man. Doesn't he realize that is the purpose of this blog? (Yes he knows about it, but rarely comes here. He knows me well enough to know I don't pull my punches when I threaten to do something though.)

Now the small aquarium the beta was in, is sitting in the bathtub full of water "soaking."

I know he thinks I'm going to clean it out...

We shall see.

As for the rest of the crap. It's still where it's been. No change there.

We did get into it yesterday afternoon over his constant putting empty boxes on the counter and filling them with trash instead of putting them in the trash can. His reasoning is that those empty cartons and boxes fill up the can too quick and it's a waste of space.

I asked if he does any cleaning around here. He does not. Therefore he gets no say in how the trash is handled in this house.

He did it again with an empty pretzel box last night. I turned around and looked at the kitchen counter where the offending box sat and looked at him somewhat calmly and asked if he had a death wish. He bitched the whole time but got up and threw it away.

Will he ever learn?

~Sleeping Mommy

Nature is a bitch and so am I

It's been months since I posted anything here. I mean what was the point? He didn't care. It didn't seem to make a difference and to be quite frank, he's wearing me down people.

You heard me right. I'm turning to the dark side. I've given in and admitted defeat. Well, maybe not quite yet.

I think we've hit an all time low around here. I have photos of the clutter to post but really what is the point? I'll just end up picking it up or yelling at him until he does it anyway.

I already cleaned up this mess:




He's taken care of some of this (he's not responsible for the ceramics/bisque and paint supplies) since I nagged him about it incessentantly:



This crap? This crap is still there minus the cardboard box. When will he figure out my kitchen counter is not storage for his tools?



But this takes the cake:



That's a dead Beta folks. It's been there for over a month. I asked him very nicely to remove it because I always have to do the gross stuff around here. He's been promising for a month he would take care of it.

I REFUSE DAMN IT.

~Sleeping Mommy

Ants in Your Pants

My husband has a glass on his dresser. It has orange juice residue in it. It has been there over a week. I'm not fucking moving it.

This has also been posted at The Peevery

~Jen14221