tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-121226722011-07-07T15:15:44.518-05:00A frustrated wife and mom decides to document her husband's crap. She is joined by several other frustrated bloggers living with packrats and slobs.<br> Photos document clutter and unfinished chores along with dates in an effort to prove that she is right and he is wrong. <br> Please do not assume to understand the relationships between the contributors and their spouses based on the content of this blog.Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.comBlogger851100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-9737783210548848762009-08-10T10:34:00.003-05:002009-08-10T10:50:31.882-05:00Sometimes 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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />NONE of them pick up after themselves. <br /><br />Sigh...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-973778321054884876?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-7020222974202835872008-09-12T17:04:00.003-05:002008-09-14T12:57:39.416-05:00Nobody 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br />(I'll get a new post up, when I get a chance to take pictures and upload them.)<br /><br />Codzilla said...<br /><br /><blockquote> <br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />You have to admit, at the end you refer to it as "our crap".</blockquote><br /><br />Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said... <br /><br /><blockquote>Codzilla,<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.</blockquote><br /><br />Anonymous said... <br /><br /><blockquote>I am a million times worse than your husband.<br /><br />Women see something like 40% more detail than men. that's why insignificant things klike this drive them crazy.<br /><br />Kiss your hubby and straighten the stuff out if it bothers you so much</blockquote> <br /> <br />Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said... <br /><br /><blockquote>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.<br /><br />And I'm NOT HIS MAID nor am I his mother.</blockquote><br /><br />Anonymous said... <br /><br /><blockquote>you are one selfish woman! Maybe you should read "the proper care and feeding of husbands" by dr. laura your husband would thank you.</blockquote><br /> <br />Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said... <br /><br /><blockquote>Wow, I guess someone doesn't know how to read. Under the header it says:<br /><br />Please do not assume to understand the relationships between the contributors and their spouses based on the content of this blog.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.</blockquote><br /><br />ShutUpEd said...<br /> <br /><blockquote>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.</blockquote><br /><br /> <br />Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said... <br /><br /><blockquote>Yeah but then I wouldn't have as much fun giving him a hard time now would I?</blockquote><br /><br />The Blogging Gourmet said... <br /><br /><blockquote>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"<br /><br />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.</blockquote><br /><br />Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy said... <br /><br /><blockquote>Hmm, just went to the website for the book and took the relationship quiz:<br /><br />http://www.surrenderedwife.com/surrendered_wife_relationship_quiz.html<br /><br />I scored an 84. The results state:<br /><br />"Congratulations!<br />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."<br /><br />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.</blockquote><br /><br />And now it has one.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Ammie aka Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-702022297420283587?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-43398863376523774632008-04-16T16:21:00.025-05:002008-04-16T20:14:23.978-05:00In <a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2008/04/we-need-10000-stat.html"target=_blank>my last post</a> 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.<br /><br />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.)<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008013.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />EVERYTHING, it would seem. I mean, looking at these photos, you must wonder how there could possibly be more. <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008016.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />A few other angles to give you a complete view. <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008014.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />(From inside looking out the kitchen door. Say hi to Hank!)<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008008.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />Yes, it really does go all the way back, into each corner.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008015.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008021.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />Somebody reserve my padded room, now, because I'm going to go nuts.<br /><br />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 <a href="http://sleepingmommy.com/2008/04/08/all-hail-breaks-loose/">due to the storms</a> that rolled through. <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008029.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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? <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008024.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />Oh, there are the bunnies!<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008025.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />At least they get some shade out this deal.<br /><br />Then there's the stove (and various other crap).<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008027.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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. <br /><br />It even makes me even more nuts than this:<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008022.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />The truck has been sold and is waiting for transport. The car was intended to be a drag racing car for <a href="http://www.speedtv.com/programs/pinks"target=_blank>Pinks!</a> That's on hold for now. The rest of that crap is supposed to be for building his shop building.<br /><br />Here is where some of the children's bikes and outdoor toys have to stay for now. There is more on the porch too. <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008031.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008019.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008021.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />No need for thanks, it's what I'm here for. <br /><br />What's that on the porch? <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008034.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />It's a microwave, of course! Supposedly it works. It's going in the garage sale too.<br /><br />Next is the kitchen where we find the table top actually exists.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008001.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />Some of the items were actually put away in the attic storage. <br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008004.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008005.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008006.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />Moving upstairs.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008035.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />Oh, wait! That is actually our youngest child's room. It's a mess. Like father like son, I always say.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />This isn't working for me.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008039.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />Why yes that is my bra hanging on the handles of that chest of drawers.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008041.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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 <a href="http://sleepingmommy.com/2008/04/12/sometimes-i-just-cant-help-myself/"target=_blank>kittens</a> 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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008042.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />Then there's my husband's desk. For the love of sweet Georgia Brown.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008043.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/ourcrapapril162008047.jpg" border="0"><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />Or else, I won't have to worry about writing that thesis because I'll be living in a padded room. <br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-4339886337652377463?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-16182977286165575162008-04-08T11:16:00.002-05:002008-04-08T12:03:54.178-05:00Seriously, we have to get $10,000 as soon as possible or my nerves are going to suffer from the stress of dealing with this.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2597.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2597.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2594.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2594.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2599.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2599.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br />The kitchen table. Most of this is going upstairs to our bedroom--somewhere. Ha! <a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2008/03/back-by-popular-demand.html"target=_blank>(It hasn't changed since my last post).</a><br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2595.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2595.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2596.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2596.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2604.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2604.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2602.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2602.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2600.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2600.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&current=DSCN2603.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN2603.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br />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. <br /><br />And, we've begun piling things up for a garage sale as soon as it <a href="http://sleepingmommy.com/2008/04/08/all-hail-breaks-loose/"target=_blank>STOPS STORMING.</a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-1618297728616557516?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-87268826330427612292008-03-14T11:26:00.005-05:002008-12-08T23:58:38.466-06:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1F29JQqLIpM/R9qoLesqxyI/AAAAAAAAAII/J5DKvroPpzs/s1600-h/garth-not-his-real-name-dresser.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1F29JQqLIpM/R9qoLesqxyI/AAAAAAAAAII/J5DKvroPpzs/s400/garth-not-his-real-name-dresser.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177635636788250402" border="0" /></a>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.<br /><br />I don't believe we've seen the top of it, since then.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Still.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />But, this post is NOT about the kids, yes?<br /><br />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 for...um...how old IS my son?<br /><br />Anyway, it gets tight...quick...around here and did I mention that I'm claustrophobic?<br /><br />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.<br /><br />He thinks.<br /><br />It's like Erma Bombeck said:<br /><br /><blockquote> "Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing up is like shoveling the walk while it's still snowing."<br /></blockquote><br />Is it too much to ask that my husband straighten up his own crap?<br /><br />As you can see, the dry wall is in desperate need of a paint job, too - but, I'll save that for another bitch session...um...I mean, blog post!<br /><br />Hold me.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-8726882633042761229?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Liz@thisfullhouse.comnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-68428791455788680712008-03-13T08:40:00.004-05:002008-03-13T10:07:10.181-05:00Well maybe not popular demand, but at least one person asked for more regular posts, and I aim to please. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />So here is the current state of my husband's crap.<br /><br />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. <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008156.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />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.)<br /><br />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? <br /><br /><em>(Note: Your monitor hasn't gone wonky. I disorted the mail, etc that had our names and addresses.)</em><br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008155.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />Put it in a box at the other end of the counter!<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008157.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />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! <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008154.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />First the bathroom literature. Dude, this is no where near as bad as at the old house. <br /><br /><em>(Note the pepto--we've both been experiencing a lot of hearburn lately <a href="http://sleepingmommy.com/2008/03/05/all-comes-tumbling-down/"target=_blank>from</a> <a href="http://sleepingmommy.com/2008/03/06/no-title/"target=_blank>all the</a> <a href="http://sleepingmommy.com/2008/03/09/thank-you/"target=_blank>stress</a>.)</em><br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008159.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />Wanna know why? He just moves the stacks a few feet out the door to his end table.<br /><br /><em>(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.)</em><br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008160.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />His dresser.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008161.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008162.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />And for the piece de resistance...His desk.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/March2008164.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"><br /><br />How in the hell can he work in this space? I don't get it. <br /><br />I just don't get it.<br /><br /><br />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. <br /><br />I'll stick to the passive aggressive approach. It's more entertaining for everyone that way.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-6842879145578868071?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-53442677029641951212008-02-16T13:27:00.003-06:002008-02-16T13:50:10.376-06:00I just gave up. Posting every single day wasn't working. And it was more work to post pictures <em>every single day</em> 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. <br /><br /><em>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.</em><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&amp;current=February2008288.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Husband's Crap Feb 16 2008" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/February2008288.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&amp;current=February2008290.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Blender leaks yet he doesn't care" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/February2008290.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Yeah, it's blurry, I just can't find it in me to care.<br /><br /><a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/?action=view&amp;current=February2008291.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="More husband's crap" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/February2008291.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />If only this house had a larger utility room/laundry room/backporch area. <em>(We haven't even lived here a year yet and I'm already "if onlying" the house. Hello!)</em> 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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*<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-5344267702964195121?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-36259305802703312722007-12-05T11:00:00.000-06:002007-12-05T11:01:41.438-06:00I saw this on another website and just had to put the link here.<br /><br />Too <a target="blank" href="http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/2007/12/04/holy-matrimony/">funny</a>!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-3625930580270331272?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sherrypghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144898764121534813noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-61681116023752765692007-11-13T08:25:00.001-06:002007-11-13T08:26:30.351-06:00We've been sick. I have too much to do. I'll return to this again in the future. For now, just know that my husbands crap is still laying around. You can count on it.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-6168111602375276569?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-46579913553530701232007-11-11T08:10:00.000-06:002007-11-11T08:14:06.594-06:00This one will have to do for yesterday and today. It looked like this last night before bed and still this morning when I got up while he slept away. I don't expect it to change before tonight. I'm losing hope.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov111.jpg" border="0"><br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov11.jpg" border="0"><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-4657991355353070123?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-11484987140624569522007-11-09T22:40:00.000-06:002007-11-09T23:01:59.111-06:00<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov91.jpg" border="0" alt="crap"><br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov9.jpg" border="0" alt="more crap"><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-1148498714062456952?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-22675763774027298102007-11-08T20:38:00.000-06:002007-11-08T20:42:06.678-06:00<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov82.jpg" border="0" alt="No. Actually these DON'T belong here."><br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov81.jpg" border="0" alt="Seriously getting irritated."><br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov8.jpg" border="0" alt="My patience is wearing thin."><br /><br />I'm entering one of the hormonal phases of my cycle. He seriously needs to take care of this crap because my head is probably going to explode over this sometime in the next couple of days. The fuse has been lit...and it's not all that long.<br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-2267576377402729810?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-13353247343139629132007-11-07T22:52:00.000-06:002007-11-07T22:54:32.580-06:00<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov72007.jpg" border="0" alt="Same-Ol' Same-Ol'"><br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Nov720071.jpg" border="0" alt="Compare to Day 15, we have progress!"><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-1335324734313962913?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-15576534877635754132007-11-06T21:08:00.000-06:002007-11-06T21:11:23.383-06:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0971.jpg" border="0" alt="The usual crap"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0972.jpg" border="0" alt="COME ON!"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0973.jpg" border="0" alt="MORE CRAP!"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-1557653487763575413?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-69095824944639560062007-11-05T23:24:00.000-06:002007-11-05T23:27:57.926-06:00My husband has returned from his trip and has been home two and a half days. That's long enough to regroup and pick things up. He has not done so. He walked in the door and promptly put all his crap from the trip on the kitchen counter. ALL of the kitchen counter.<br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0952.jpg" border="0" alt="All of this needs to go to his office aka our bedroom."></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0950.jpg" border="0" alt="At least he's consistent"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-6909582494463956006?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-78486961308859817452007-10-31T22:02:00.000-05:002007-11-01T09:41:40.398-05:00My Husband is leaving me.<br /><br />Psyche!<br /><br />Nah, he's just leaving for a few days. He gets to go to Vegas and have fun and do professional things and I'm stuck with the kids. So. The daily count of his persistant piles of crap will be put on hold until his return.<br /><br />It's just not fair to post when he's not here to actually do something to clean up the mess, you know?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-7848696130885981745?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-80331244385786019052007-10-30T22:10:00.000-05:002007-10-30T22:15:25.353-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/oct302.jpg" border="0" alt="yada yada yada"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/oct301.jpg" border="0" alt="blah blah blah"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/oct30.jpg" border="0" alt="nag nag nag"></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-8033124438578601905?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-55286000335816046802007-10-29T23:34:00.000-05:002007-10-29T23:35:30.453-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct291.jpg" border="0" alt="Still doesn't belong here"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct29.jpg" border="0" alt="Building the pile again"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct28.jpg" border="0" alt="It's been dangling there for about a month"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-5528600033581604680?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-3013987597439508172007-10-28T12:26:00.000-05:002007-10-28T12:33:21.353-05:00I failed to get pictures taken last night, however it remained just as it was on Day 9. I'm sure you will take my word for that, right? We were out of town at my mother's celebrating my youngest child's 3rd birthday. After we got back and put the kids to bed (an ordeal in itself) I just didn't have the time or energy to remember to post.<br /><br />However, when I got up this morning (it was my day to sleep in!) I found there has been SOME progress made.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct283.jpg" border="0" alt="Better, ignore the dishes in the sink, I will have them done within the hour"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct282.jpg" border="0" alt="a new mess left over from last night"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct281.jpg" border="0" alt="About the same"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct28.jpg" border="0" alt="It's been dangling there for about a month"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-301398759743950817?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-65032069568044688092007-10-26T22:45:00.000-05:002007-10-26T22:48:43.692-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct261.jpg" border="0" alt="WHYYYYYY????"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct26.jpg" border="0" alt="pitcher, cup, glasses--ALL HIS"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct262.jpg" border="0" alt="And it continues to grow..."></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-6503206956804468809?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-74098561925210012552007-10-25T20:51:00.000-05:002007-10-25T21:10:55.783-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/oct25.jpg" border="0" alt="It may be blurry but its still crap"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/oct2517.jpg" border="0" alt="random piece of crap, not even in a pile"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/oct2516.jpg" border="0" alt="Still a pile of crap"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-7409856192521001255?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-13531864232614977932007-10-24T22:44:00.000-05:002007-10-24T22:46:54.554-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct241.jpg" border="0" alt="a little better"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct24.jpg" border="0" alt="NOT better"></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-1353186423261497793?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-4064031563942095312007-10-23T19:24:00.000-05:002007-10-23T19:30:13.219-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/2Oct23.jpg" border="0" alt="We have a basket for these"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct23.jpg" border="0" alt="This drives me effing crazy"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/1Oct23.jpg" border="0" alt="I should put it in a box on the fire pile"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-406403156394209531?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-62338581964272395962007-10-23T09:35:00.000-05:002007-10-23T16:00:39.058-05:00If you visited within the last 24 hours you probably found the site gone all wonky. Sorry for the layout glitch. I was trying something and pasted some code into the wrong place and then forgot to remove it before closing down. Then time got away from me and I never could get back to post last night's pictures. That's what I get for spending time with the Husband instead of nagging him (via this blog) about his crap.<br /><br />So without further ado, Day 5 (yesterday) 12 hours late.<br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct22.jpg" border="0" alt="Please take note of the belt along the top of the cookbooks--that isn't where it goes"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct221.jpg" border="0" alt="What makes me mad is I have several organizers for him to put this stuff into"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-6233858196427239596?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-15587042998239574112007-10-21T21:14:00.001-05:002007-10-21T21:17:31.736-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct21.jpg" border="0" alt="It IS spreading."></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct211.jpg" border="0" alt="The crap keeps sliding off the piles."></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How the VIGIL began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-1558704299823957411?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-73579283293728093172007-10-20T20:12:00.000-05:002007-10-20T20:16:39.176-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct20.jpg" border="0" alt="Is it me, or is this pile spreading?"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Oct201.jpg" border="0" alt="No better."></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How THIS vigil began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-7357928329372809317?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-17444218832871864042007-10-19T21:31:00.000-05:002007-10-20T11:59:28.934-05:00<a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0793.jpg" border="0" alt="Snoring Daddy says, Eff you to my taking pictures."></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0792.jpg" border="0" alt="So Rude."></a><br /><br /><a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2007/10/day-1.html"target=_blank>How THIS vigil began.</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.slepeingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-1744421883287186404?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-66842831491402716322007-10-18T19:29:00.001-05:002007-10-18T19:49:07.611-05:00Today I'm beginning a vigil to clear my kitchen counter tops of my husband's crap. I've had this blog for a very long time and only used it sporadically. It has merely been a log of my frustrations with my husband's clutter and stacks when I feel them boiling up. But no more. <br /><br />Keep in mind that most of this has been stacking up over a period of months with my asking nicely every week or so that he PLEASE sort through the junk and put it all away. "Nice" never gets me anywhere.<br /><br />Starting today I will post pictures every day of his crap for as long as there are pictures to post. At this point I do not plan on posting anything other than pictures and a tally of the days running in the title. But we will see how long I can hold my silence, won't we?<br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0731.jpg" border="0" alt="there is a place for this and it ain't here"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0732.jpg" border="0" alt="there is a place for this and it ain't here"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0733.jpg" border="0" alt="GRRR!"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-6684283149140271632?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-46330145336542401712007-10-08T18:52:00.000-05:002007-10-08T19:19:56.635-05:00I really wish I had a photo of the Garage before. It was BAD.<br /><br />Here it is now. This is about three weeks after the initial cleaning and organization. Most days the kids can play in here and on the driveway with their bikes, etc.<br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0384.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"></a><br /><br />Now if only I could get the man to clean off this counter in the kitchen. It's almost all his stuff. Stuff he needs to sort through and throw away or file or pay.<br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/clutter3.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"></a><br /><br />My only consolation is that it's not all of the cabinets and when you walk in the door from the garage it isn't the first thing you see. <br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0464.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"></a><br /><br />You can see it from the living room doorway though. See? This was taken yesterday.<br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSCN0489.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"></a><br /><br />So that's a problem. I'll be gone all day tomorrow. It would be a great time for Snoring Daddy to take care of this, wouldn't it? <br /><br />Hey, a girl can dream can't she?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-4633014533654240171?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-26175858782923132472007-10-03T21:24:00.001-05:002007-10-03T21:40:21.953-05:00It's the great mofo delurk day? See, there's a button and everything.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.schmutzie.com/2007/09/814-great-mofo-delurk-2007.html" title="The Great Mofo Delurk 2007"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v491/schmutzie_pickles/buttons/pink.jpg" alt="The Great Mofo Delurk 2007" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It's as good a day as any to update. I have no pictures to post at the moment. The past several months have been busy but the new house is finally moved into and unpacked. I even got my husband to help me clean up the garage of all his crap a couple of weekends ago! I missed a great posting opportunity. I should have taken a picture so everyone could appreciate the improvement. We can actually park a car in our two car garage now. Notice I said <em>A</em> car. Not car<em>s</em>. We have quite a bit still stored in the garage. There's almost room for a second car but the christmas tree box is <em>huge</em>, dude, and we refuse to haul it and the rest of the Christmas decorations upstairs to the attic.<br /><br />We finally got a dog fence built and installed an electric fence around the perimeter last weekend courtesy of the wonderful Sherry of <a href="http://www.sherrypg.blogspot.com"target=_blank>If it's not one thing it's your mother</a>, one of our contributors here at My Husband's Crap. Her dog is now "too fat to get under the fence" at her house and when she heard all our troubles keeping our dogs inside of our's she volunteered their electric fence. Bless her. It's working so far! Thank you thank you thank you!<br /><br />Right now I'm praying for a cold snap to stop the growth of the grass. I had to mow our lawn the week before last using a push lawn mower. It took me five hours over the course of three days that week to get everything mowed. I don't want to have to do that again this year. But if it keeps growing I probably will because I doubt my husband is going to get the shredded tires replaced on the 1979 John Deere lawn tractor--which would probably shorten the length of time it takes to mow the lawn by half of what it took with the push mower. But we need money for that and we just don't have it to spare right now. So push lawn mower it will be. Again--barring a good old fashioned deep freeze real soon.<br /><br />Well, as Al Roker would say, That's what's happenin' in our neck of the woods. I'll try to get some pictures the next time I'm irritated with the clutter and mess around here. But these days, I have to admit, that's not so much my husband's crap as my kids' being pigs. So I'd better post that over at <a href="http://www.mykidsarepigs.blogspot.com"target=_blank>My Kids are Pigs</a> instead.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-2617585878292313247?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-7337365833407579752007-06-30T21:30:00.000-05:002007-06-30T21:43:20.780-05:00Finally, we are moved into our new house. Now the trick is to finish getting all our crap out of the old house's storage building and shop. Why is this a trick? Because neither my husband nor I want to go back to that hellhole AND it's been raining for weeks. <br /><br />The yards are swamps and it's been nearly impossible to get into the back yard of the old house. Luckily the new owner plans to make it a rent house and is giving us time to make a few improvements to the property as well as get out. For now. I hope the guy's patience holds.<br /><br />Now, to get unpacked at our new house--not easy when I'm relying on my husband for so much of the moving of the boxes and hanging of shelves and whatnot. It's driving me crazy. I predict future postings soon, regarding my husband's crap--because my patience is rapidly disappearing! But I'm trying to hold on because he has a deadline approaching to turn in the manuscript of his book to his editor. <br /><br />Meanwhile, here's a photo of the new house!<br /><br /><a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/IMG_6772.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"></a><br /><br />I really wish the rain would stop and everything would dry out so that we could mow the lawn and get a fence built for our dogs. Then we could enjoy that wonderful front porch. Right now the dogs are tied up on it. And the flies and mosquitos are swarming. It. Sucks. The. Big. One.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank><br />~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-733736583340757975?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-82108399817341763862007-03-05T08:45:00.000-06:002008-12-08T23:58:39.646-06:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8vJfb6vnJa0/RewtURdJE5I/AAAAAAAAAAM/4qZZEBWz8b8/s1600-h/Kitchen+Floor+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038451909427008402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8vJfb6vnJa0/RewtURdJE5I/AAAAAAAAAAM/4qZZEBWz8b8/s320/Kitchen+Floor+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>He thought he could redo the floor in a weekend. Wish me luck.</div><br /><div></div>Catt<br /><br />PS - Full story on my <a href="http://cativa.blogspot.com/">blog</a>. <br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-8210839981734176386?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cattivanoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-28008932611262708492007-02-25T07:13:00.000-06:002007-02-25T07:27:36.869-06:00Well, it has been several months since I last posted. It seems that counseling has helped. While I cannot speak for my husband, I will assess the situation the way I see it.<br /><br />At first DH went to counseling because he wanted me to get better (typical). But he soon realized that he was contributing to the unrest as well. I think he finally realized that the clutter was truly affecting me as badly as I claimed. He also realized some hidden anger, and that his anger caused him to ignore my requests for help.<br /><br />It takes an humble man to admit all this, but he did. That alone got things heading the right direction.<br /><br />So here is the atmosphere now: DH volunteers to help me hang pictures and clean up. We took a truck load of stuff to the flea market. He has developed a budget and no longer spends money foolishly (which he did when he was angry). He has short-term and long-term goals for getting the house clutter free and organized. Life is pleasant in our home now.<br /><br />What did I do to bring about change? I packed up MY superfluous items (even things I wanted) and moved them out. I painted the interior of the house, which helped it look clean, and the color on the walls reduced the “look” of clutter. I learned to accept my husband’s limitations. His efforts at change are tremendous, so I’ve let go some of my expectations. In other words, compromise.<br /><br />Also, my sister loaned me a book called “It’s All Too Much” by Peter Walsh which I highly recommend to all of you and your spouses. I just read it last night, myself. It sure put in words what we have all been trying to say. Here is an excerpt from page 45:<br /><br /><em>Clutter denies us peace of mind: Time and again, the people I deal with attribute much of the conflict in their relationships or the sense of hopelessness in their lives to the clutter itself. . . . .I constantly see couples whose lives are torn apart from their arguments about disorganization. Many of these people also struggle with anxiety or depression.<br /></em><br />Due to fear of copyright infringement, I will stop there, but you get the picture. It is what we already knew: Clutter Causes Chaos.<br /><br />I Hope the rest of you are Conquering the Clutter problem.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com">Cyclothymic Cister</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-2800893261126270849?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-33320037893822174822007-01-29T10:06:00.000-06:002007-01-29T10:19:44.544-06:00Could it be? After all this time, and my near complete despair of ever making any progress with the man, there may be a solution in site when it comes to my husband's crap.<br /><br />Keep your fingers crossed for us. The solution involves moving to a "new" (to us) home, with a lot more space. We have one in mind and are hoping (desperately) that it is meant to be and will work out. However if its not this particular house we will keep looking and working on the finances so we can get the right one when it comes along.<br /><br />The one we are looking at requires a great deal of work. Some of it cosmetic, some of it a more in depth remodel. However the potential is nearly-endless (to us) with this particular home. It has four bedrooms! Two and half baths! A garage! And drum roll please....a room on the first floor that will serve beautifully as an office--complete with a DOOR!<br /><br />However, it could be that this one is not meant for us. It could get snatched out from under us--but we are hoping the work the house needs will be a deterrent to anyone looking at it.<br /><br />So this is an official call for your fingers to be crossed for us. Even though I know I'll be cursing the work we have to put into it, once we get it done it would so be worth it.<br /><br />And whats even more important, he would have NO excuse at all for leaving his crap lying around where people can see it. We would have an office and a garage and eventually a shop that it could all go to. NO EXCUSE!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-3332003789382217482?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1156549580950009612006-08-25T18:41:00.000-05:002006-08-25T18:46:20.963-05:00Hey. 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.<br /><br />(I'm not called <a href="http://www.cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com">cyclothymic cister </a>for nothing).<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-115654958095000961?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1155975015750617182006-08-19T02:55:00.000-05:002006-08-19T03:12:43.110-05:00This 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />So since my anger out-weighs my ability to laugh, I will not post for a while.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />You can still read me at <a href="http://cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com/">Cyclothymic Cister</a>.<br /><br />Later. . .<br /><br /><a href="http://cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com/">Jill/Cyclothymic Cister</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-115597501575061718?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1155756721463930772006-08-16T14:28:00.000-05:002006-08-16T14:49:37.726-05:00<img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/DSC00065.jpg"><br /><br />(please pardon the crappy picture--the quality, not the contents)<br /><br />Sigh... I guess when the crap is now a part of self-employment. At least that's the current excuse.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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...<br /><br /><a href="http://sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-115575672146393077?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1155687132712453742006-08-15T19:06:00.000-05:002006-08-15T19:12:12.726-05:00A 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."<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com/">Cyclothymic Cister</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-115568713271245374?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1155352706178709792006-08-11T21:24:00.000-05:002006-08-12T09:34:18.353-05:00Well, 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.<br /><br />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).<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com/">Cyclothymic Cister</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-115535270617870979?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1150304308069511222006-06-14T11:52:00.000-05:002006-06-14T11:58:28.083-05:00A 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).<br /><br /><a href="http://cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com/">Cylothymic Cister</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-115030430806951122?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1149425641271751622006-06-04T07:50:00.000-05:002006-06-04T07:56:02.183-05:00Weekends 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!<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com/">Jill/Cyclothymic Cister</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114942564127175162?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1148068863401254892006-05-19T14:05:00.000-05:002006-05-19T15:32:37.056-05:00I'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"!<br /><br /><a href="http://cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com">Cylothymic Cister</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114806886340125489?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1147194740009162842006-05-09T11:46:00.000-05:002006-05-09T12:13:58.303-05:00He 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."<br />Hmmm. Wonder when that will be? When I need a place to store his ashes? (Just kidding).<br /><br /><a href="http://cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com">cyclotymic cister</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114719474000916284?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1146589978639299972006-05-02T11:46:00.000-05:002006-05-08T12:25:47.116-05:00My 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />It is a comfort, somehow,to know that I'm not alone. Thank all you fellow sufferers for coming forward.<br /><br /><a href="http://cyclothymiccister.blogspot.com">Jill/Cyclothymic Cister ( your newest member)</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114658997863929997?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cyclothymic Cisterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05694907622866096228noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1146586611051912442006-05-02T11:13:00.000-05:002006-05-02T11:18:53.960-05:00Most 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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />What can a woman do? Other than bitch and moan and blog about it?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114658661105191244?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1145564203700273712006-04-20T15:15:00.000-05:002006-04-20T16:59:19.840-05:00At least the cans will be in <a href="http://sherrypg.blogspot.com/2006/04/thursday-thirteen_20.html">Arabic</a> this time...<br /><br /><a href="http://sherrypg.blogspot.com">- sherrypg</a><br /><br />Read earlier posts <a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_myhusbandscrap_archive.html">here</a> and <a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2005_11_01_myhusbandscrap_archive.html">here</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114556420370027371?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sherrypghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144898764121534813noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1141355518920394942006-03-02T21:11:00.000-06:002006-03-02T21:11:58.943-06:00Despite my lovey-dovey previous post I just want to say to my darling husband:<br /><br /><blockquote>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 <em>(the third is for MY stuff not yours)</em> 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.<br /><br />And one other thing. KEEP YOUR CRAP OUT OF THE CABINET MY CRYSTAL IS IN!</blockquote><br /><br />Thank you. And good day, good evening and good night.<br /><br /><a href="http://sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114135551892039494?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1141171356243538602006-02-28T18:02:00.000-06:002006-03-02T21:13:53.710-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/294/1158/640/IMG_6608.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/294/1158/320/IMG_6608.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />My husband cleaned his messy, messy desk (<a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2006/01/husbands-have-two-types-of-crap_23.html" target="_blank">seen here</a>) by moving all the stuff he didn't need to the old downstairs bathroom! <a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://domesticpsychology.blogspot.com/"target=_blank>~Cathy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114117135624353860?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cathynoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1141134751962280772006-02-28T07:49:00.000-06:002006-02-28T07:53:24.346-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5112/372/1600/danger!.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5112/372/320/danger%21.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />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.<br /><br />-<a href="http://jen14221.com">Jen14221</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114113475196228077?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jen14221noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1140561277031323002006-02-21T14:54:00.000-06:002006-02-21T16:44:29.030-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3942/595/1600/IMG_3726.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3942/595/200/IMG_3726.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> 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. <br /><br />I guess he's perfect for me no matter what anyway.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3942/595/1600/IMG_3740.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3942/595/320/IMG_3740.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> But if that's my only complaint I'm pretty lucky. Especially when I have a guy who brings me these.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114056127703132300?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1140365941086261242006-02-19T10:17:00.000-06:002006-02-21T14:23:54.026-06:00<div align="center">Nobody touch Dad's stuff.<br />He puts it where he wants it.<br />Crap is everywhere. </div><br /><br /><a href="http://domesticpsychology.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Cathy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-114036594108626124?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cathynoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1138590336661882732006-01-29T21:05:00.000-06:002006-01-29T21:09:18.600-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/294/1158/640/IMG_5749.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/294/1158/320/IMG_5749.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I wouldn&#039;t mind the tools sitting out all the time if they had been used in the past YEAR!<br />- <a href="http://domesticpsychology.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Cathy</a> <a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-113859033666188273?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cathynoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1138082686882368682006-01-24T00:02:00.000-06:002006-01-24T00:08:32.943-06:00In 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.<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/984/619/1600/ben"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/984/619/320/ben%27s%20shoes.jpg" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-113808268688236868?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MissBossyPantsnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1138044881313014362006-01-23T13:34:00.000-06:002006-01-23T13:37:22.550-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/294/1158/640/IMG_5740.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/294/1158/320/IMG_5740.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />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.<br />- <a href="http://domesticpsychology.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Cathy<img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-113804488131301436?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cathynoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1138045514226176452006-01-23T13:30:00.000-06:002006-01-23T13:46:40.013-06:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/294/1158/640/IMG_5746.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/294/1158/320/IMG_5746.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />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&#039;s universe is suddenly disturbed.<br />- <a href="http://domesticpsychology.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Cathy</a> <a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-113804551422617645?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cathynoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1137954977121565222006-01-22T12:30:00.000-06:002006-01-22T12:42:22.406-06:00For 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?<br /><br />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.)<br /><br />Now the small aquarium the beta was in, is sitting in the bathtub full of water "soaking."<br /><br />I know he thinks I'm going to clean it out...<br /><br />We shall see.<br /><br />As for the rest of the crap. It's still where it's been. No change there. <br /><br />We did get into it yesterday afternoon over his <a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2005/09/whats-his-excuse-this-time.html"target=_blank>constant putting empty boxes on the counter and filling them with trash instead of putting them in the trash can.</a> His reasoning is that those empty cartons and boxes fill up the can too quick and it's a waste of space. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <span style="font-style:italic;">somewhat</span> calmly and asked if he had a death wish. He bitched the whole time but got up and threw it away.<br /><br />Will he ever learn?<br /><br />~<a href="http://sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-113795497712156522?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1137794171848776732006-01-20T15:49:00.000-06:002006-01-20T16:22:58.560-06:00It'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.<br /><br />You heard me right. I'm turning to the dark side. I've given in and admitted defeat. Well, maybe not quite yet. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />I already cleaned up this mess:<br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/messjan2006.jpg"> <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/january2006.jpg"><br /><br />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:<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/Darby3.jpg"><br /><br />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? <br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/jan2006.jpg"><br /><br />But this takes the cake:<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/deadfishjan20006.jpg"><br /><br />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. <br /><br />I REFUSE DAMN IT.<br /><br />~<a href="http://sleepingmommy.com"target=_blank>Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-113779417184877673?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1137613319262343032006-01-18T13:41:00.000-06:002006-01-20T16:23:37.410-06:00My 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.<br /><br />This has also been posted at <a href="http://thepeevery.com/">The Peevery</a><br /><br />~Jen14221<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-113761331926234303?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jen14221noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1133360767164271652005-11-30T08:24:00.000-06:002005-12-09T11:27:18.586-06:00UPDATE!<br />He noticed the can and said, "You leaving this here in rememberance of me?" Quite a smart guy, my husband.<br /><br />BTW, he threw it in the trash.<br /><br />Heh.<br /><br />---<br /><br />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!<br /><br />-Sherrypg<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-113336076716427165?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sherrypghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144898764121534813noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1129145757686508172005-10-12T14:31:00.000-05:002005-10-12T14:36:24.966-05:00I just want y'all to know that my husband has been mobilized and will be gone for a year. Therefore, the crap he has left behind? How long will I let it sit? Think I can make it a whole year? Any bets to be placed?<br />-Sherrypg<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112914575768650817?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sherrypghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144898764121534813noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1129052973278128432005-10-11T12:45:00.000-05:002005-10-11T12:49:33.286-05:00On 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. <br /><br />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".<br /><br />The terrible thing is that I thought he was kidding, until later on when I saw the papers peeking out from under the sofa.<br /><br /><a href="http://jen14221.com">-Jen14221</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112905297327812843?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jen14221noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1127220656157527142005-09-20T07:48:00.000-05:002006-01-20T16:24:42.723-06:00As promised, pictures of the departure of the old truck:<br /><br /><img src=http://www.boomspeed.com/smileys/TruckGoing1.jpg><br />Going...<br /><br /><img src=http://www.boomspeed.com/smileys/TruckGoing2.jpg><br />...going...<br /><br /><img src=http://www.boomspeed.com/smileys/TruckGoing3.jpg><br />GONE!<br /><br />It seems weird having so much space in the driveway now. I'll get used to it! :)<br /><br />~Warcrygirl<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112722065615752714?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>warcrygirlnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1126992232453550352005-09-17T16:22:00.000-05:002006-01-20T16:25:01.680-06:00As I type this Hubby and BIL are out front preparing to remove the old POS truck from my driveway. Oh, the JOY I am feeling right now! Pictures to follow...<br /><br />~Warcrygirl<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112699223245355035?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>warcrygirlnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1126013206871605302005-09-06T08:24:00.000-05:002005-09-06T08:29:12.480-05:00I believe that all of this:<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 431px; HEIGHT: 321px" height="352" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/124_2436.jpg" width="480" /><br /><br />belongs in this:<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 429px; HEIGHT: 299px" height="325" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/124_2435.jpg" width="467" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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."<br /><br />There is plenty of room in that trash can if you will notice. His excuse this time?<br />"I don't want to put boxes in the trash it takes up too much room."<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://sleepingmommy.blogspot.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112601320687160530?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1125327245756446652005-08-29T09:33:00.000-05:002005-09-02T16:55:46.810-05:00I 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Whatever right?<br /><br />Anyway, my husband is a stacker. Case in point:<br /><br /><img height="353" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/124_2431.jpg" width="468" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />He makes no attempt at organization. He <em>maybe</em> 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.<br /><br />Now for another extreme example of stacking and disorganization.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/124_2432.jpg" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />I wanted to keep it a wet bar. But I was over-ruled.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />The paper sack towards the top? That's full of fireworks. <strong>Damn it.</strong> 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.<br /><br />As you can see, I try to avoid opening these doors at all costs.<br /><br /><strong><em>HONEY!!!! YOU GOT SOME 'ESPLAINING TO DO.</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.blogspot.com"target=_blank>~Sleeping Mommy</a><br /><br /><a href="http://technorati.com/tag/husband" rel="tag">husband</a><br /><a href="http://technorati.com/tag/Marriage" rel="tag">Marriage</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112532724575644665?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1125012060971106572005-08-25T18:16:00.000-05:002005-08-25T18:23:13.156-05:00<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5112/372/1600/Messy%20closet1.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5112/372/320/Messy%20closet1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Here in Lockport New York, we don't have any <a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v59/kakmer/graphics/Blog/P8180067.jpg">barrels of clothes</a> in the basement. Here, we have the black hole of clothes on the closet floor. See example at left.<br /><br />I think those are the dirty and need-to-go-to-dry-cleaners clothes, but who really knows? His <a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com/2005/08/41-days-and-counting.html">bag</a> is under there somewhere, I assume. And yes, that is a beer can on the floor there. It's empty, I checked.<br /><br />And holy shit....I thought we lost the iron in the move last fall, but look where it's been this whole time....<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.jen14221.typepad.com/">-Jen14221</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112501206097110657?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jen14221noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1124122177231717342005-08-15T11:08:00.000-05:002005-08-15T11:09:37.236-05:00We went away for 4th of July weekend. We've been back since July 5th. And my husband has still not unpacked his bag.<br />-Jen14221<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112412217723171734?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jen14221noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1121458378151050282005-07-15T15:03:00.000-05:002005-07-17T13:10:18.450-05:00My husband took down part of our fence so he could drive the truck into the backyard and unload some sand for the pool.<br /><br />But did he put the fence back up when he was done?<br /><br />Uh...I don't think so.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/fencedown.jpg"><br /><br />Yeah, that's safe.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/nails.jpg"><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/fenceup.jpg"><br /><br />Sherrypg<br /><br />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?<br /><br /><img src="http://sherrypg.diaryland.com/images/newmower.jpg"><br /><br />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.<br /><br />~Sherrypg<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112145837815105028?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>sherrypghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144898764121534813noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1120155393564285402005-06-30T13:04:00.000-05:002005-06-30T13:20:17.610-05:00We 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.<br /><br />My husband doesn't pick up after himself. That is the reason this blog was founded.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img height="411" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/frontporchandGS0001.jpg" width="561" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img height="397" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/frontporchandGS0003.jpg" width="542" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-112015539356428540?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1119312840990591762005-06-20T19:09:00.000-05:002005-06-20T19:22:14.393-05:00.....and it's not even my birthday.....<br /><br /><img alt="Free Image Hosting at <a href=" src="http://img263.echo.cx/img263/4539/cleangarage1zf.th.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></a></a>The garage is clean,<br /><br /><br /><img src="http://www.jen14221.com/photos/will_is_the_best_baby_eve/happy_and_swingy-thumb.jpg" /></a><br />and the swingset is up.<br /><br /><br /><strong>-Jen14221</strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111931284099059176?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jen14221noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1117117632912352962005-05-26T08:58:00.000-05:002005-05-26T09:31:29.840-05:00This is becoming a common phrase for me. I'm tired. Why?<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/jeffscrap0001.jpg" /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/jeffscrap0002.jpg" /><br />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?<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/jeffscrap0003.jpg" /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/jeffscrap0004.jpg" /><br />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.<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 386px; HEIGHT: 279px" height="287" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/jeffscrap0005.jpg" width="395" /><br />Ah, the fan box. Been hanging around the house about a week or so.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/jeffscrap0006.jpg" /><br />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!<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/jeffscrap0007.jpg" /><br />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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />~Sleeping Mommy<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111711763291235296?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1116288376784773162005-05-16T19:00:00.000-05:002005-05-26T08:49:54.880-05:00<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#000099;"><strong>Dead: the mini. </strong></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#000099;"><strong><em>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.</em></strong></span></span><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"></span></em></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;">Broken: the lawnmower</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"><em>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' .</em> </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;">Beat-up: my husband</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"><em>He's gonna get a knuckle sandwich if this shit doesn't get settled pretty soon.</em></span></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;">~Jen</span></em></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111628837678477316?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jen14221noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1116134602622749202005-05-15T00:20:00.000-05:002005-05-26T08:50:24.996-05:00I 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><strong>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.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>~Sleeping Mommy</strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111613460262274920?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1115308758587698512005-05-05T10:56:00.000-05:002005-05-26T08:51:21.393-05:00Hello!<br /><br />My name is Tanya (warcrygirl) and here's my contribution to My Husband's Crap.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/smileys/OldTruck01.jpg" /></center><br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/smileys/OldTruck02.jpg" /></center><br /><br /><center><img src="http://www.boomspeed.com/smileys/OldTruck03.jpg" /></center><br /><br />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.<br /><br />Hubby was not pleased.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />~Warcrygirl<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111530875858769851?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>warcrygirlnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1115228476886621622005-05-04T12:19:00.000-05:002005-05-26T08:52:02.463-05:00Hi,<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />So now I have a nice big garage. Where Peter likes to keep his crap. And there's no room for my car.<br /><br /><a href="http://img64.echo.cx/my.php?image=garagecrap8am.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Free Image Hosting at <a href=" src="http://img64.echo.cx/img64/941/garagecrap8am.th.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />~Jen<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111522847688662162?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Jen14221noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1114920770482533742005-04-30T23:09:00.000-05:002007-10-18T19:58:44.530-05:00I just want the lawn mowed and cleaned up and the branches hauled off from his trimming the tree last week.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br />I miss my partner and friend. But not my husband's crap. <br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111492077048253374?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1114545007687292612005-04-26T14:42:00.000-05:002005-04-26T17:02:29.683-05:00<img style="WIDTH: 449px; HEIGHT: 339px" height="652" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y79/deerledge/100_0921.jpg" width="646" vspace="2" /><br />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.<br /><br />I never can find a thing on his desk and when he can't find something, guess who gets blamed?<br /><br /><br />~Sheri<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111454500768729261?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sherinoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1114528034515996802005-04-26T10:01:00.000-05:002007-10-18T20:00:06.257-05:00when 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. <br /><br />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. <br /><br />He's remembering his boxers more often than not.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111452803451599680?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1114003028904282892005-04-20T08:12:00.000-05:002007-10-18T20:01:50.365-05:00No 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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/naturalconsequences0001.jpg"><br /><br />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 <em>I</em> do. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />I was told to just be quiet.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111400302890428289?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1113832235313992892005-04-18T08:32:00.000-05:002007-10-18T20:02:25.114-05:00On 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 <a href="http://photos4.flickr.com/4271577_4395eb89b7_m.jpg" target="_blank">car</a>--AGAIN). We did some shopping in Oklahoma City and visited his family briefly.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 351px; HEIGHT: 230px" height="944" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2059.jpg" width="1158" /><br /><br />He picked up the kitchen towel on Friday I think. Again only after I nagged him into submission.<br /><br />He picked up his boxers from the bathroom this morning. Again only after I nagged him into submission.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />The dehydrater of course has not budged.<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 398px; HEIGHT: 270px" height="889" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2058.jpg" width="1079" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111383223531399289?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1113443848125624142005-04-13T20:43:00.000-05:002005-04-13T20:57:28.126-05:00For 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Catt<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111344384812562414?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cattivanoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1113435824723146302005-04-13T18:36:00.000-05:002007-10-18T20:03:20.976-05:00<span style="font-size:85%;"><em>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.</em></span><br /><br />The boxers have been put away.<br /><br />The dish towel is still on the floor.<br /><img style="WIDTH: 349px; HEIGHT: 226px" height="516" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/april12.jpg" width="575" /><br /><br />The dehydrator is still on the counter and unwashed.<br /><img style="WIDTH: 350px; HEIGHT: 214px" height="846" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2058.jpg" width="1197" /><br /><br />The box is still on the porch.<br /><img style="WIDTH: 356px; HEIGHT: 235px" height="938" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2059.jpg" width="1156" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />We are making progress. Slow, painful progress but progress nonetheless.<br /><br />But no matter how slow or painful <a href="http://sleepingmommy.blogspot.com/2005/04/just-because.html" target="_blank">I love my husband.</a><br /><br />Soon we will address the clutter on the counter and the lawn that desperately needs mowing.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111343582472314630?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1113415998963294622005-04-13T13:09:00.000-05:002007-10-18T20:04:36.852-05:00Hat tip to <a href="http://pantrygirl.blogspot.com/">Pantrygirl.</a> She left a comment about <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/city_life/story/299386p-256300c.html">this article. </a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111341599896329462?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1113321397993586802005-04-12T10:36:00.000-05:002007-10-18T20:06:38.818-05:00First 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. <em>(Don't get any ideas honey.)</em><br /><br />The kitchen towel has only moved about 10 inches from its location yesterday.<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 427px; HEIGHT: 259px" height="552" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/april12.jpg" width="875" /><br /><br />Next, nothing has been done with the dehydrator. See previous post for details regarding how long its been sitting there. <strong>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.</strong><br /><img style="WIDTH: 457px; HEIGHT: 321px" height="893" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2058.jpg" width="1211" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 420px; HEIGHT: 286px" height="882" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2059.jpg" width="1127" /><br /><br />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?"<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 431px; HEIGHT: 275px" height="869" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2057.jpg" width="1035" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Now, I had a lot of interest from commenters on <a href="http://sleepingmommy.blogspot.com">my other blog</a> about being a contributor to this kind of blog. So if you are interested please <a href="http://myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com">email me</a>. If I do not already know you or read your blog there may be a waiting period. Please be patient.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111332139799358680?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12122672.post-1113316624837075132005-04-11T15:31:00.001-05:002007-10-18T19:54:13.650-05:00What do you all think? I'm threatening to start a second blog.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />An example:<br /><br />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.<br /><img style="WIDTH: 360px; HEIGHT: 217px" height="870" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2052.jpg" width="1345" /><br /><br />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.<br /><img style="WIDTH: 385px; HEIGHT: 251px" height="626" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2051.jpg" width="858" /><br /><br />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.<br /><img style="WIDTH: 351px; HEIGHT: 281px" height="923" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2053.jpg" width="1206" /><br /><br />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.<br /><img style="WIDTH: 372px; HEIGHT: 281px" height="561" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2054.jpg" width="712" /><br /><br />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?<br /><img style="WIDTH: 353px; HEIGHT: 226px" height="897" alt="Image hosted by Photobucket.com" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v419/ammiebryant/120_2055.jpg" width="1210" /><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Just for a day or two, I'm not that heartless.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sleepingmommy.com">~Sleeping Mommy</a><br /><br />I started the blog. This is it. This post was copied and pasted from my original blog.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12122672-111331662483707513?l=myhusbandscrap.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Sleeping Mommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02513072010842238560noreply@blogger.com1