Principia

The third law of thermodynamics is particularly muscular in our home: I feel it applies itself more aggressively here than anywhere else.  Tidy and organized surfaces devolve into chaos in about ten minutes flat-- I hear it has something to do with having a kid.  Grad students, I think there is a paper in this.

This is not good as both Maj. C and I hate clutter.  Although Maj. C is the neat freak of his family, I actually hate clutter more than Maj. C. -- my parents once described my taste in kitchens as "autopsy chic." I hate not being organized, I hate having "stuff."  My dream home would be a concrete box with windows, books, an Ipad, and my family (not in that order).


Whether or not I sold out to the the military-industrial-baby-complex is yet undecided, but babies really seem require lots of stuff.  All my intentions of baby minimalism collided with reality once the Bunny arrived.  Decor in the living room went from Scandinavia modern (ahem, IKEA) and MCM (liberated furniture from my parents) to Fisher-Price Happy Jungle Jumper and other Chinese plastic horror shows.

Since my life has devolved to merely surviving fluctuating and every increasing chaos (see the Third Law above), I have four things I cling to-- If I manage just these four things, I feel OK with my frumptastic baby-food-smeared/cat-hair-magnet/sleep-deprived self.

1. My purse/diaper bag is organized and stocked (so I can go out the door at any time)
2. My bed is made (falling into a made bed is a gift to myself every evening)
3. Cat box is clean (I hate coming back from work to a smelly house)
4. I have a list (it may never get checked off, but I have a list)

Any day these things fail to happen is a bad day. In particular, if the bed doesn't get made, I know its time to re-trench or get some help.  It's kind of a silly, but everything else just seems to fall apart. . . My very attainable rituals define a good day-- what are yours?