Monday, May 20, 2013

What's A Mother To Do?

     I know how the end of the world is going to happen! We are going to be smothered in all the paperwork that collects in our homes and no one will survive. Eons from now they will think it's some odd burial custom to fill the inside of our homes with papers and leave the bodies inside to mummify.
     Okay, maybe not, but it feels like that sometimes. I swear to you I am constantly throwing away piles of paper and yet, when I look around my house I have stacks of stuff everywhere. It doesn't help that I can't make the toss or save decision on every thing because I have adult children living here and they get tons of stuff. I set it aside and when they get a chance they go through it. It's the "when they get the chance," that drives me crazy.
     I have one son, who I will hand a stack of mail, magazines included, who will, an hour later, get up and walk away and leave all his stuff right on the couch where he was sitting. Yes, you know who you are.
     I also have to sort through bills, ads, coupons, newsletters, boy scout stuff, soccer mailings, and tons of other junk. There are times when I just don't want to have to decide whether or not I should toss or save. Talk about pressure.
    And to make matter worse, my hubby's idea of helping to pick up the family room is to pile all the junk on the desk in the kitchen. Yes, I get dirty socks, cleats, sweaty basketball jerseys, unfinished homework, candy wrappers, and all kinds of stuff balancing precariously on what is supposed to be a work surface in my kitchen. So underneath all of that is the mind-boggling stacks of paperwork.
     I don't want to do it anymore. I don't want to be the one that has to make all the tough decisions, like whether or not to throw away my son's Indian Report, even though the dog chewed it up, and have my son look at me like I am the worst mother ever. "Don't you want to keep this forever?" Sad face along with it.
     I want to say, "No, I don't want to keep it forever! It's done! It's over! Move on with your life!
     But instead I put the chewed up Indian Report on the shelf in his closet to gather dust for years until one day when he is not here and I can toss it. What's a mother to do?

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