Monday, May 7, 2012


Over the years, things seem to come in waves. 

It's great, if it's waves of good things: friends having babies, people socializing with you, good communion with God.  It's tough, if it's waves of bad things: kids getting sick or injured, me losing my temper, getting in a slump of running late.  It's a crap shoot, when it comes to my emotions; they seem come in waves, too.  I'll have a good week, where I feel like I "know where I'm going" with life, and then I'll have a really "off" week, where I feel like I'm back at square one again.  I guess what I'm trying to describe is really just the "three steps forward and two steps back" concept. 

Last month, I felt excited because I turned some corners on keeping my house under control.  And when I say "under control" I really mean it.  I don't mean some fake, "Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up before you came over.  Let me just clear my coffee mug off the otherwise pristine coffee table" overachiever perfectionist nonsense.  No, I mean not getting reported to the health department.  I've struggled with orderliness my entire life.  I'm "one of those people" who (without God's help and the 12 steps) you could see on Hoarders someday.  When I was growing up, my parents had to finally make a rule that (get this) I wasn't allowed to sleep on the couch any more.  Why?  Because my room would get so messy that there was no place for me to sleep.  Not even on the bed.  And so I'd haul my tookus down to the couch, and sleep there for months on end.  That's always kind of been my solution to the paralysis I feel when I have to organize and deal with stuff.  Here's me:

So, anyway, house keeping has never been my forte, and I'm constantly looking for signs of improvement on my part.  Well, back to my feelings of having "turned a corner."  It was all an illusion, because I was about to get hit with a "wave" that I'd already experienced once in my life as a mother, and knew to dread like no other.  It is summed up by two words that can (or should) strike terror into the heart of any housewife; two words that shouldn't be naively mistaken as merely "yukky," but must given their full respect like unto a Hiroshima-Nagasaki bomb attack: 

Head Lice.

The remedy for head lice used to be simple: dump a bunch of chemical poison on your kids' heads, shampoo it out, vacuum a little, wash their bedding, and you're good to go.  NOT ANY MORE!  The lil' buggers have become resistant to all the poisons, and they are as hard to get rid of as a pack of visiting in-laws.  The "new" remedy involves six weeks (SIX WEEKS!) of cleaning, washing, combing, shampooing, oiling, laundry, combing, cleaning, washing, COMBING, nit picking, washing, cleaning, laundry, get it.  (And don't even get me started on all the "home" and "natural" remedies.  We've tried them ALL!)

And, honestly, it's left me feeling a WEE bit exhausted.  Each time I think I've gotten rid of the infestation, there's another wave.  You can't ask anyone for help.  You can't even hire a babysitter to come over!  You are a family of lepers, and there's no getting around it.  It's been over a month since we discovered the lice, and I think we may *finally* be beating it, but honestly, it may just be the calm before I get hit with yet another wave.

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