Faults....strengths.....what have you

So I was walking the dog this morning because for some strange reason I woke up on time... no, not on time, actually I woke up early, without the benefit of the 6 alarm clocks that rip me from sleep every morning.     Honestly, I am terrible in the mornings.  I can't seem to get up, it doesn't really matter what time I set the alarm or what time I go to bed, it really is hit and miss with me.

Last week I slept in and was 2 hours late for work.  I know!!!  I swear I thought it was Saturday, I woke up to the repeated ping of my phone saying I had a message and even then I was like "Thank God it's Saturday" and then I said.... WAIT!!!!  It was my boss texting me, wondering where I was.

I have never been good at waking up, and this little bout with being single is teaching me, hopefully, how to always get myself up.  I have always had someone else in my life who does wake up to alarms waking me up.  That said, I wonder if I am doing my children a disservice by waking them up, butt no, if I didn't, they would sleep all day long.... but I digress....

When I was a kid, my siblings would wake me up.  I recall vividly the sound of a boot hitting a bedroom door.  My brother would throw footwear at the door to scare me into waking up.  I wonder why it didn't work??  I currently have 6 alarms ringing every day, in various places in my room with various things that I need to do various things in order to disable them.  One I simply have to get out of bed, another find the tiny button that is off, but the last 3 are killing me... I do math problems to turn them off... (oh the magic of modern technology)  I set it to be medium hard and 5 questions, but my goodness I am math retarded... THAT is a job in itself, and yet I can still answer those damn questions while sleeping... le sigh.

While we are on the topic of things that I am not so good at, I have to be honest.  I am not so great at housework either.  Don't get me wrong, I don't live in the house of my childhood, but honestly, my house is usually in a set standard of disarray.  There it is... .it's out in the open now.  My little shame.  I do try, I simply have limitations.  Aside from my sister, and of course my mother, I have not seen or been in many houses that are in any way close to my messiness.  That's not to say that I have rotten food or dead animals under piles of garbage (i'd call TLC myself)  It isn't that it smells terrible all the time (there ARE times, I do, you know, live with a teenage boy, and his feet...... OMFG....again, digress).  My house is simply usually messy.  The animals tear things apart and the kids don't clean it up.  I work and when I am not working I am usually in my bedroom, seldom using the rest of the house aside from the washroom and kitchen (not surprisingly they are the cleanest rooms in the house because I see them therefor I remind kids to clean them or clean them myself).

I don't really use my house, though I pay the bills and ensure that we have food.  I just spend most of my time alone these days.  There is nothing compelling me to be in other parts of the house.  The kids' rooms are frightening, and the living room is usually full of teenage boys or at least one teenage boy who is watching something scarey on television while using the laptop while talking on the phone.... not a welcome place really....   When I have a gathering, I do clean the house, I spend days before expected company cleaning and scrubbing, deodorizing and tidying.  Twice a year I clean my carpets and rearrange my furniture.  I invite over my organized friends to help me to get to a place where most would feel it is manageable... I am not most.  My brain simply put, doesn't compute keeping a house organized.

People say that things should have a place and that they should always be put back in said place, however I note, when cleaning there is always more stuff than places.  I notice the things that I keep that I can't bring myself to throw away, not for some sentimental reason either, simply because I don't.  Once my friend came over to help me downsize the house, we got some substantial things accomplished, I got rid of 30% of my stuff... that was last year... I have increased said 'stuff' by 20%... it seems the downsizing was pointless, but I like to look at it in a more positive way, getting rid of 30% left room for 30% more stuff... I still have less than I did :)

At the end of the day I am not particular about my home.... I mean, I have teenagers and they are messy, I am, afterall, their mother, and it is one's mother who teaches them to tidy.  As my mother didn't teach me, I didn't learn, as I didn't learn, I did a poor job of teaching my children.  I simply cannot keep up after them and their friends, plus the pets...  The dog odesn't make a mess, but the cats like to tear stuff up and if I don't notice it (say, in the living room or down by my son's room) then it won't get cleaned up until I do. 

When I die, people aren't going to comment on my home, at least I hope that they won't.  Now that I think about it, will they?  Will they notice the dust on my knick knacks, the stain in the carpet, the dirt in the coat closet?  Or will they remember me, faults and all and think that they were comfortable in my home, though it isn't the cleanest, it isn't organized at all (i currently have TWO junk DRESSERS.... most people have a junk draw) there is probably money long forgotten somewhere in the house, priceless gifts, given by people in my past, carefully preserved amongst the tits and tats laying around?  Will they recall coming over to my house and worrying about their socks getting dirty or will they remember the smell of cooking dinner and the smile on my face?

It's interesting, when one really thinks about it, who we are behind our doors...isn't it?