So, about getting stuff done (another personal mantra)...

When I got divorced it was the first time I lived on my own (and by "on my own" I mean half the time truly alone and half the time with two little kidsasters running around messing up what I just cleaned).  It was a pretty good culture shock, and it is a very good thing for my next wife.

When my ex and I first started living together (in sin, oh no!), I did not pull my own weight on home front.  I had lived with my parents where a lot of the daily grind was done by my mom, and before that I lived in a townhouse with four other guys where nothing was done, so my idea of cleaning up was spraying some Febreze and shoving stuff under other stuff.  My ex and I had one of our only fights (looking back I wish we had more fights) about me ignoring household chores, and she was right.

I did shape up and the house started to run a lot smoother, then we had kids and all hell broke loose.  Simply picking up after yourself was no longer adequate, you now had to pick up after two other people (but really a kid is like five times more messy than an adult...at least mine are).  We adjusted and even tho the house was never immaculate, it was rarely in such disarray that I would be embarrassed if  somebody stopped over unexpectedly.

Then, I got divorced.  The first week of custody was mine, and it was an absolute bear (I'm serious, I think somehow my kids sneaked in a bear).  They were like a volcano married a hurricane, crap was everywhere.  I was working, going to Crossfit, fielding calls from people wanting the dirt, etc., so I thought it was a good idea to clean everything up after I got the kids down for the night.  (All together now...) I am a moron.

First, thinking my kids would go down easily after going thru a total upheaval was wishful thinking (heck they don't do it now and it's been over a year and a half).  Second, when they did finally fall asleep, I was completely crushed and exhausted.  There were nights I would get every thing cleaned up and I would look around with a grin that  could give away my hand.  Most nights tho, I was just too tired and I would pick and choose what I needed to do (usually based on the smell test).  I was losing the battle.

When my kids would go to their mother's house, I would spend all day Saturday cleaning, not exactly the way I wanted to spend my Saturday (I've got things to do people, important, life-changing things).  Of course there were those Saturdays that all I wanted to do was rest on my couch after coming home from Crossfit, so sometimes I would skip the Saturday cleaning.  I was not just losing the battle, I was surrendering.

At some point, I started adding another mantra, that I say mainly when the kids are home (I talk to myself a lot), Nobody Else Is Going To Do It.  Like with my other mantras, this one started to spill over in to other parts of my life.  Mainly it spilled because it is so true.  At first it started out seeing one of my daughter's dirty socks in the bathroom, I could leave it there, or I could realize that nobody else was going to pick it up.  I stopped waiting until the night to do things and I started doing them as I noticed them (who knew that could be a good idea?).  Dishes stopped resting in my sink and started resting in the dishwasher until it was full.  Dirty laundry (I think somehow I have five kids) stopped piling up and started getting done just about every day, all because nobody else is going to do it.

Like I said, it started to bleed into other areas of my life.  Calling with questions about grad school, running the mile without stopping, signing up for unemployment (again...boo!), learning new recipes, meeting new people, going to therapy, attempting to date and so on became things that I did because nobody else was going to do it for me.

All these "nobody else is going to do it" moments started to have a real impact on my life and my mental well being.  I started to realize that doing things that I did not usually do, things that were out of my comfort zone, were making me a stronger person, a better dad and happier.  From the small victories like picking up the thousand sippy cups that accumulated around my house (seriously, is anybody missing a kid?) to the major victories like starting school, it was like I could feel myself becoming more independent and stronger.  Now I know there is probably some sort of weighting system when it comes to gaining strength (I mean no way does the mundane picking up of a sock equal walking into an uncomfortable situation at a funeral home), but I have not figured it out, so I am going to just keep adding weight (finally I can put weight back on).

This entire entry may sound very much like a "no kidding" situation, but for a guy that had not lived alone until he was 34, it was not.  I will never enjoy doing the dishes or cleaning the toilet, but I do enjoy the end result.  I like that I am winning some of the battles, or at least going down with a fight.