Mom Craze

Every now and then I go into a little private crazy rant and then do something drastic. Yesterday was one such occurance. It has been building for months. My dishwasher doesn't work that well. It's only a few years old, and we bought a good one thinking we wouldn't have problems, but no such luck. Half the dishes come out clean half the time. So then we end up reloading and washing again, but meanwhile more dirty dishes pile up. I've had a repairman out, we've called the company (of course the warranty is expired), and have tried everyone's tips I can find. Often I end up washing several dishes by hand. Anyway, yesterday the dishwasher was full of half clean dishes, the sink was FULL of dirty dishes, and the counters were covered in their usual 500 cups. Everyone in my family must get 56 drinks a day and use a new cup each time, thereby littering my counters and whole house with cups that never quite make their way to the sink, let alone the afore-mentioned evil dishwasher. Mind you, my children do have chores, and it is someone's chore to do the dishes, but more often than not that person is nowhere to be found at moments like these. Such was the case yesterday. Brady, my current dishes person, has been working an inordinate amount of hours lately, so I never see him. I've almost forgotten what he looks like. So I knew he'd be of no help. I looked around at the cup-infested kitchen and my private craze moment began. I started hating the dishes, my satanic dishwasher, my kitchen in general, and my piggy children. I decided to take action. I began the painstaking process of washing every single dish by hand. I spread towels all over my counters and layed out all my just washed cups, plates, and silverware. It took a long time. Then I proceeded to remove every plate, bowl, cup and silverwarwe from the cupboards and drawers and place them on the counter. Then I made some little labels with everyone's names on them and attached them to the shelves in my now-empty cupboards, giving each person a designated shelf. I then placed one plate, one bowl, one cup, and one each of a knife, fork, and spoon on each person's shelf. I have enough odd, mismatched utensils and dishes that each person's is different from eachother's, just so there's no confusion. I then took every single remaining dish and utensil and put them in garbage bags and hid them away where no one will find them. I was feeling better already. The good part was when the first child came home and opened the cupboard to remove the first of their 56 cups and found the new system. Word spread fast, and soon all the kids were in the kitchen wondering what happened and asking a lot of questions. I simply replied, "Those are now your dishes on your shelf. Whether you wash them or not is up to you." I walked away knowing I had conquered. My mom-craze paid off. At least for now. At this moment my kitchen is sparkling clean. I think there's one mixing spoon in the sink. And I will wash that. Happily.