Mr. Squirrel to Mr. Clean: A Tribute

This weekend we found a dead squirrel in the pool.

Which might not be such a gross thing, but I spotted him down in the overflow tank, where the fancy infinity edge drops, and that's not an area of the yard I walk around much.  So I'm not sure how long Mr. Puffypants was a-floatin', but it was a sad, sorry sight.

Made even sadder by the visual of our long-handled pool net lying in a watery grave right below. 

Uh oh.

Being a girlie-girl, I freaked out a little and once the kids got wind of it (or down wind of it, however you look at it), there was much debate about how to proceed.

Turns out, big sister was feeling fearless, and pulled Mr. Puffy out with a big short-handled net that we first purchased to rescue a live snake out of the same overflow tank (don't ask).  There was continual shrieking and the critter was dropped a few times and actually brought up to the back door at one point, but was finally disposed of after much dripping dead squirrel being carried to and fro.  Puffy was taken to his final resting ground outside of our yard fence, where daddy thought he might secure a more final-final resting ground when the bigger critters found him.

All of which to say that after this strange incident, we were trembling a little and felt the overwhelming need for some massive household sterilization.  Of pretty much anything.

In big family logic, a dead squirrel in the pool led directly to a thorough cleanout of the refrigerator.  By thorough, I mean that every single item, shelf, and drawer was removed, scrubbed down, reorganized, and replaced.  It was a six-person job, I tell you.

Although I have a personal rule to wipe the shelves whenever I come home with a new load from Publix, it was quite alarming how nasty our fridge was in the far back behind the old salsa and crusty hummus.  I also think a Coke exploded on the top shelf and trickled down not too long ago. Remember how I told you that none of us are Type A here?  Well, you could probably guess that from this project.  I am embarrassed to report that the kids found 3 bottles of A-1 sauce, 6 or 7 salsas, 3 canisters of Kraft Parmesan, and 3 bottles of the exact same salad dressing.

In my defense, I buy it when I need it because going back to the store for one item with five kids is NOT. FUN.

Madeleine decided to up the ante and make some handy labels. 



You know your husband has been on a heart-healthy diet for a long, long time when
his daughter makes a label for "Butter" and "Butter Alternatives."

I hope you can appreciate M's hard work with the little labels.  The idea pictured below with the pink bin (in spite of the unacceptable grammar, which I totally deserve after this prideful post) is worth sharing.  I would give credit to some magazine, but I can't recall the actual source and suspect is from one of the myriad of clippings my mom thoughtfully mails to me. 

The idea is to put all the refrigerated things your kids need to pack their lunches right into one basket that can be pulled onto the counter at 6am when you haven't had enough coffee to find the doggone Mickey Mouse go-gurts.

So I'd like to pay tribute to dear Mr. Puffy, who unwittingly helped me get my fridge sparkly spic 'n span and nicely organized for the week ahead. 




The littles also cleaned the kitchen baseboards
with hot water and Q-Tips after we finished the fridge.
Really. 

In a bizarre twist, the kids turned on an episode of Duck Dynasty later that day (I do believe some TV time was merited) and the plot involved Jace and Jep carrying a truckload of rancid, stinking raw meat around West Monroe.  It seemed like an appropriately ironic closing to the weekend, one that found me thinking once again that you never know what a day in this family will bring.

Running the Big Show

Having five kids reaches the threshold of stopping conversation with a stranger for a silent beat while they absorb that tidbit of information.  I seem like a normal WASPy mama at first glance, a potentially good type for bunco groups and tennis leagues, but the "five kids" part leaves everyone questioning a bit and scratching their heads.  Then the stream of questions and comments and silent murmurings ("Is she Catholic?"  "Don't they know how that happens?") begins to flow. Even the Publix cashier feels entitled to her say on the pros and cons of five kids.  It's okay, though.  I know it's a crowd.

Don't I know it.

A happy crowd of folks all in my tender loving care.

My mom made a fitting comment when leaving from a recent visit: "You're running a big show here."

Truth.

So on Mondays, I thought I'd share a few things that are working or not working in my household.  Because we Roberts are do-it-yourselfers.  There are no Type A's leading this bunch. We are fighting against nature to get 'er done and get 'er done well.

That said, all summer, I've benefited from my in-house labor force to help with the 7 toilets, the everlasting pool cleaning, at least 14 loads a week of laundry, pet care, 2.5 acres of lawn, 147 weekly meals, and over a dozen flower beds. Whew. I'm winded just from typing the to-do list.

But with school and after school activities, I'm bumping up against the workload and am going to have to roll out my card system once again.  I used it every so often last year with good results, and even once with a play date riding home, which was somewhat startling for the poor guy since he was an only child, probably with a housekeeper.

The card system is simple:  I write down what chores are imminent on four index cards, one for each kid. The chores have boxes to check off as they get completed, and then the cards are returned to me when they're finished. Chore charts have not ever worked for me personally.  That's because the needs are ever-changing, the daily schedules vary, and I require on-demand service from my little helpers.  So we're going to give the cards a try.

I suppose I could hire out.  I've thought about it.  A lot. But the more we save, the more we are able to say "yes" to God when he asks us to give.  Our budget stays more flexible.  And how in the world can I develop a work ethic in my kids in this day and age without some good old-fashioned work?  As David aptly put it "If they haul rocks in a wheelbarrow for a while, they'll be overjoyed to be reading a book or doing practically anything else on earth."

AM might need two cards today. Style points for her, though.

I love that man.

Good thing, too, 'cause we've got five kids to raise together.