I have never really considered myself a "type A" person. I am not obsessed about details (as can be seen by the fact I didn't take the time to flip this picture) and generally live in a world of "good enough". I am not a finisher which would be obvious to anyone sitting in my dining room surrounded by unfinished sewing projects. I feel like I am fairly self aware, I know my (many) weaknesses of character and can even name a few things that I am not to bad at.
I was completely caught off guard when my husband told me this week that I was controlling. I don't feel controlling and I have never really thought of myself this way before. My world, though not quite rocked, was defiantly jiggled. This comment came after I spent the evening achieving what is pictured above.
My spices have been bugging me for a while. I love to cook and bake and have a microscopic kitchen that is often inhabited by 3 small children and 2 large dogs in addition to myself and sometime my husband. Realastate is at a premium to say the least. My spices were a mess, it was hard to find what I needed to use and they were taking up way to much space. The pepper grinder had fallen on my head one to many times. It was time to take action. I went to Cost Plus, bought the spice jars and labels and conquered that cabinet. Then my husband made the comment.
Baby has a lot of work the last week or so. She has had a cold and, while never a great sleeper, her sleep has been particularly atrocious as of late. I have not accomplished a thing during day light hours either, trying to keep her happy and the other 2 fed, clothed and generally parented. Matt observed, rightly, that the less control I have in my world, the more I try to control the little things. Not because I am type A, not really because I am a controlling person in general, but as a survival technique that helps me hold on to the last few shreds of sanity that I posses. My neatly sorted baking cabinet proves him correct.
I know I will continue to learn about who I am, who God would like me to be and all about the journey in between. If anyone else cares to enlighten me about myself, please feel free. You will find me sorting out my sock drawer, right before I go and tackle organizing the boiler room.
I was completely caught off guard when my husband told me this week that I was controlling. I don't feel controlling and I have never really thought of myself this way before. My world, though not quite rocked, was defiantly jiggled. This comment came after I spent the evening achieving what is pictured above.
My spices have been bugging me for a while. I love to cook and bake and have a microscopic kitchen that is often inhabited by 3 small children and 2 large dogs in addition to myself and sometime my husband. Realastate is at a premium to say the least. My spices were a mess, it was hard to find what I needed to use and they were taking up way to much space. The pepper grinder had fallen on my head one to many times. It was time to take action. I went to Cost Plus, bought the spice jars and labels and conquered that cabinet. Then my husband made the comment.
Baby has a lot of work the last week or so. She has had a cold and, while never a great sleeper, her sleep has been particularly atrocious as of late. I have not accomplished a thing during day light hours either, trying to keep her happy and the other 2 fed, clothed and generally parented. Matt observed, rightly, that the less control I have in my world, the more I try to control the little things. Not because I am type A, not really because I am a controlling person in general, but as a survival technique that helps me hold on to the last few shreds of sanity that I posses. My neatly sorted baking cabinet proves him correct.
I know I will continue to learn about who I am, who God would like me to be and all about the journey in between. If anyone else cares to enlighten me about myself, please feel free. You will find me sorting out my sock drawer, right before I go and tackle organizing the boiler room.
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