Life in a house with three projects in process

Fun Fact: Somehow, watching this video is a really distinct childhood memory for me (which is weird because we didn't have cable, so no MTV for me as a 3 year old). I remember being equal parts terrified and fascinated by the puppets.

Anyway, "Land of Confusion" really sums up how it feels to be three-projects deep (baby room, bathroom and now home office).

Because we're refinishing the baby's floor, using some yuck-o primers and adhesive, I walk around like this a lot.

My living room is piled with baby furniture (though the crib is still hidden in the basement).

The dining room is the staging area for all the tools.

Notes, reminders and other can't-miss items live on the dining room table.

Replacement items (towel bar, shelves and a fan for the kiddo's room) hang out next to the toilet brush. In my living room. Gag. Assorted junk is squirreled away under the coffee table.

Baby shower presents have started to roll in (yay!), but they have no home until the floors are done.

And finally, the worst part - because we're always sanding or scraping something down (it seems), there is a constant layer of dust on everything that I really see no sense in taking care of until the dust-creating activities are done.

Oy. 

It's not too bad, but after about three weeks of this, I've got to admit, I feel a little cramped. Hopefully, these nesting instincts I've heard so much about will really inspire me to do a deep clean once the projects are done!

Twelve Tidys: Basement Workshop

Get crazy, wicked excited, please: I'm starting a new monthly series on this silly little blog called the Twelve Tidys (ba da ba BAH!). Every month, I'll be tackling one hideous, horrible, very bad mess and whipping it into shape using only my very fragile sense of organization (and Hubs for brute strength and lots of mismatching tupperware).

First up, our junk-filled workshop in the basement. It was crammed with all the left-overs of the basement project because after we finished, we couldn't bring ourselves to do much of anything, especially clear away the debris. So, we worked around it. Hubs brewed his beer and I just kept digging through the mess to find screws, goggles and other random supplies for DIY projects. It was bad.

We needed to find a home for all the tools, materials and brewing supplies. In a fit of domesticity and gender-normative behavior, I told Hubs that he needed to keep all that stuff on his side (the side with the unpainted floor), while laundry and pantry items, plus anything hidden in an old oak armoir we had, was welcome on my side. 

That blue shelf and all the coupon-bought things it holds is my pride and joy. Judge not.

Seedy-underbelly no more!

Not only is it clean as a whistle, but that five gallon white bucket? That's full of homemade wine, suckas! We live in heaven!

A surprisingly small amount of all that clutter was actual trash or Goodwill-able, so I'd say about 80% of it is still here, though you'd never know it.

Want to hop on the neurotic organization wagon with me? Share a link in the comments.

It's a dirty job

In early 2009, I moved into this little old house. As I scrubbed the kitchen before unpacking all my kitchen booty, I noticed the stupidest sink setup ever:

Yep, a 1/8" gap between sink lip and wall - perfect for trapping gunk, water and debris.

I don't recall if I actually cleaned the gap that day or not. Maybe the previous owners had before the left. Maybe my mom did it for me because she's good like that. Either way, the gap gave us no trouble.

Fast forward to last night, when a mood hit me and I Wanted to Clean. I set about scrubbing down the stove-top, counters and cabinets and was soon ready to Comet the heck out of the sink.

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks: I had never cleaned the gap. Never! Ever! That little sliver of counter held secrets deeper and darker than any mob snitch-to-be, sleeping with fishes. The level of grime was so much that the gap could not even contain it all. Slime and filth poured over like muffin tops at Six Flags. It was time to clean.

And it was so horrible, reader, the things I saw last night. I couldn't keep this to myself.

Ten Q-Tips later, I had the gleaming sink crack of yore. And I'll have you know, sink gaps are awfully hard to capture in photographs with a cell phone.

Do you have any spots you just up and forget to clean for two years? Or am I just a frat boy living in a homemaker's body?