Guest post – a rebuttal of sorts – from my sister…
Mea culpa, I do call my beloved Stormy OCD, but I mean it in the nicest way. My little sister is one smart cookie. If we had had a different mother, I’m fairly confident, she would have landed a challenging career in New York City. But growing up, what could have happened and what does happen are often quite different.
So Stormy took lemons and made lemonade. She hunted down the man of her dreams and married him. Now to the OCD. At one time (and possibly still) Mrs. Smith had a schedule for each day, clean, vacuum, dust each room, scrub bathrooms, change sheets, clean bedrooms, scrub floors. I was fascinated and once set out to follow her example. But as I was working sometimes 12 to 14 hours a day all hopes of following an organized schedule fell apart. With my four kids and several dogs in a single mom household it just was not workable.
Even today my youngest sister remains my role model for a well-run home. A place for everything and everything in its place. Her home is always beautiful, artful and tidy, and yes, extremely clean. As an old tired curmudgeon my rooms are not so much. Projects pile up in the sewing room and office with writing, editing, sewing, and League of Women Voters projects. I no longer have a house full of kids or dogs to track in dirt or pile dirty dishes in the sink. I’m too short to see the top of the refrigerator but still have no excuse for my less-than-perfect housekeeping. The truth is I am not bothered by a few days dust or the bedroom chair piled with yesterday’s sweats. Yet I am envious of the energy and organizational skills my baby sister brings to her home. She’s a fantastic mother, wife, grandmom and party planner. But it seems as I push my 8th decade my energy reserve has left on a Caribbean cruise. And now that I know that she is irritated by me saying she has OCD, I should stop, but probably will not. Why be good when you can be naughty.