I function, so much better (in the figurative sense, not the literal sense – or this would be a post about the benefits of a fibre rich diet), without clutter.

But you see, I live with three males (who knows *how* Supermom does it with four!) who find it perfectly acceptable to ‘drop whatever they’re holding, wherever they are’.  So the maintenance of my sanity is up to me, because the constant nagging, which has no discernible effect other than to annoy MYSELF, is doing *as* great a job driving me nuts, as the actually clutter itself.

My husband, is a dab hand, at tidying the kitchen. I *will* give him that. 10 minutes and any stray dishes are washed, put away, and counters wiped down to an acceptable level even Gordon Ramsay would approve of.

Socks, underwear, shorts, shirts, socks, and shoes and towels however, remain resolutely on the floor.  So even when I have to display a measure of gratitude for when he gets the children ready for the bath, I am simultaneously grinding my teeth with the effort of not moaning at him, for just leaving the kids clothes, wherever he has managed to corner them and remove them at bath time.

I have tried to employ the wash basket in each bedroom technique. I have even tried using the ‘take your clothes off at the washer’ technique, and have a perfectly good ‘whites/colours-adults/colours-children’ laundry basket system set up. However in order for it to have any effect at all, I have to pick up everything and put it in the appropriate baskets myself. Everytime.

Mail.  Snail mail. Every single time I am in the kitchen, I have to throw away opened envelopes, because somehow, they’re magically magnetized, rendering my husband unable to approach the garbage can less than three feet away! The filing, naturally , is simply dumped onto MY desk, completely f*cking up my zen-like CHI that I have established, since the arrival of my iMac, which meant that my desk is tidy at all times, enabling my head to expand, and fill itself with creative thoughts, and to be at one with my iMac. Making cool stuff.

One thing that my incessant nagging *did* accomplish was getting the husband to move my evILs shipping boxes into the garage so that they were no longer cluttering up the dining room, and since we moved all the toys into the braai room, things have been much better in that general area.

Do most of you find, that no matter how organised you are, you find yourselves fighting a losing battle with your  nearest and dearest? Do they toe the line? If they are messy how do you deal with it? Clean it yourself, or splurge on a credit card as punishment?

I’d love to know how YOU all deal with this issue.

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