Managing My Home

The day was warm but not too unbearable. Just right in my opinion. But the man of the house was home doing book work and was absolutely sure the house was stuffy and needed a fan to circulate the air. And when he's home, he's the boss.

So, go get your fan Mister.

(No, I really didn't say that.)

I conveniently procrastinated on getting the fan. I despise the sound of a loud, obnoxious fan in my already crowded house. I dislike the idea of my children plunging their fingers into it's hungry blades. I do NOT enjoy the annoying way a fan makes it too easy to trip and fall around it's perimeter and I just really don't like loud box fans.

Toby's family on the other hand, lives, breaths, sleeps and eats with loud fans. And the louder the better.

After finishing what I was doing when the request was made, and then quickly wrapping up another thing and then making sure I didn't have to finish another project right then, I marched back to the bedroom and got the fan. My submissive spirit always defeats my procrastination tendencies eventually.

In the midst of getting the fan, my cell phone rang. I couldn't find the crazy phone so rudely dropped the fan in the livingroom and then dashed back down the hall towards the sound of the ringing phone. It was an old friend whom I hadn't talked to in awhile. We had gobs of juicy stuff to catch up on -- you know, babies, homeschooling, scheduling our days, being good wives, etc.

The one thing my friend discussed to great lengths and then encouraged me to look into was the book, Managers of Their Homes. A scheduling guide for the most busy and behind mother. I made a mental note to look into that.

At long last, the phone visit ended and I got back to my day. And I got back to that fan. During the phone call, I had totally set the fan request on the back burner. Unfortunately, the kids didn't though.

The other day I had bought Landon and Janae a very creative educational game. The game had 1 1/2" round, flat, wooden "candies" in an assortment of colors. Each "candy" had two holes so you could string it up with the strings provided. Each "candy" also had an upper and lower case letter. So, not only do your kids learn colors and letters, they also learn fine motor skills as they thread the "candies" together. All the "candies" fit into a convenient, plastic, candy-jar-looking container and a quaint little scoop fits in as well. It's the cutest little thing.

The kids had been enjoying this new game all morning and continued to enjoy it after I brought the fan out. They creatively figured out that each candy fit perfectly in the grid of the fan and would drop down to the bottom of the fan. One by one, the "candies" disappeared. My normally active and noisy children, were speechlessly involved in their project. The house was so peaceful and quiet during the duration of their activity.

After I hung up the phone, I tried prying the "candy" pieces out of the fan but Toby quickly informed me a screwdriver would be better. I happened to have ran across a screwdriver while doing laundry earlier that day so I made a bee-line to the laundry room. Don't ask me how screwdrivers and dirty laundry have any connection. I'm not really sure how they do but on this day, they were actually very connected.

I retrieved the screwdriver and attempted to disassemble the fan. My two-year old, construction-aspiring son quickly confiscated the screwdriver and set to work on the fan. Soon, screws were scattered all over the floor and in Janae's mouth.

But, before the fan got put back together, I thought I should take the time to clean the blades and vacuum all the dust out. It was only wise to take the opportunity and clean it right then since the fan was already taken apart. And it's not like everyday we take our fans apart to take toys out.

So, I vacuumed and dusted and soon the fan was sparkling clean. I found another screwdriver and reassembled the fan while Janae looked on, sucking on the one screw I couldn't find.

The fan was reassembled at last but the load of laundry in the dryer finished at the same time and that over-rided the importance of the fan being plugged in and turned on. Plus, Landon was practicing his construction skills by attempting to tighten all the screws I had just put in -- a productive thing for him to do when I can't keep an eye on him for a second. So, while he did that, I finished up the laundry.

The air still wasn't circulating around Toby's desk. Unfortunately, all the activity that surrounded the simple task of plugging a fan in and turning it on, didn't account for too much air circulation. Maybe if I was a better manager of my home, I could simply use a fan without having to clean it and extract toys from it everytime my husband asked to use the thing.

Without further ado, it dawned on me that Toby had asked for the fan an hour ago and it was still sitting idle. I apologized for my negligence and plugged it in and turned it on.

Meanwhile, all morning, Toby was bemoaning the fact that he wasn't "getting squat done" -- although the stack of finished bills and estimates climbing on the top of his desk testified otherwise. He was trying to make me feel guilty for being the object of his distraction. I countered back to him over the drone of the annoying fan... "Well, it's not like I'm getting much done today either." So he wouldn't feel like the only one having an upside down day, I quickly finished with, "And, I don't get a lot done the days you're home anyway."

He just rolled his eyes and wouldn't believe me. But, considering it took an hour out of my day to mess with a fan all because he wanted it, I'd have to say I got a lot less done in that time than I normally would've. And besides, I had never planned on working on the fan when I got up that morning and was making a mental schedule of my day.

I wonder if Managers of Their Homes would eliminate frivolous fan situations like we had on this day...

"Honey, can you get me a fan?" The husband would say.

"My dear, sweet, honey bunch, let me check my schedule..." the wife would wisely respond as she gracefully retrieves her neatly organized planner. "There's no implication that a fan was included in my schedule today," she would inform him." I can perhaps work it in tomorrow though."

"Can't you just get a fan and plug it in?" the husband would ask again, attempting to make the task sound simple.

But any good manager of her home would know that as simple as that task sounds, it could change the whole direction of her day.