My fridge is so dirty that every time I open it, I die a little inside.
No, really, it’s that dirty.
Drips of brown mystery liquid dot the bottom lip, containers of 10-day-old Thai food litter the shelves, and there are about 30 half-full strawberry yogurt containers holding the rejected strawberries that I have to scoop out before The Poo will even consider eating it.
An empty plastic bag from the butcher sits in the meat drawer, and somehow I ended up with four bottles of milk.
I open the fridge 100 times a day, so do you, I bet. Fetching this and that, looking for something good to eat, grabbing the orange juice.
And each time I do that, I think, I really need to clean this thing out. I can’t see anything in here.
Then I close the door again and go do whatever useless activity I was doing before I went looking for the cheese.
I can’t seem to get organized right now. I feel at loose ends. Oh, stuff is getting done. I get up, I shower and get dressed, I manage to make preschool drop-off on time. I finish my columns and turn them in on time, sometimes even early. A social services inspection would find our home untidy, but still hygienic.
But at the same time, I feel like I’m drowning. I can’t seem to finish a housekeeping task in less than a week. Laundry? Forget it. I actually bought new underwear last weekend because so many of my old pairs are in the wash, buried under a mountain of towels.
When the house is this chaotic, my head feels chaotic. So why, then, do I look around me at 2:30 in the afternoon, take in my filthy fridge and a family room landscaped with minute plastic ponies, and, sighing, sit on the couch with my laptop?
I feel almost like I’m outside myself, looking in. I see a mess. I see something that needs to be neatened, straightened out, organized.
Maybe it’s the pregnancy, the feeling of torpor that settles over gestating mothers. Maybe it is my body telling me that I am working on something more important than clean floors and ship-shape pantries.
Or maybe that fridge is one giant, mocking metaphor.
April 3rd, 2008 at 7:11 am
Why are you writing about my life? Except, for the pregnancy part. Thank god.
April 3rd, 2008 at 7:17 am
At least you’re pregnant - I’m just lazy.
April 3rd, 2008 at 7:46 am
pretty sure shaggy would agree - you r working on him right now. pony filled family rooms and ucky fridges can wait.
April 3rd, 2008 at 8:18 am
Maybe you could move your garbage can next to the fridge for a few days (if it’s really bothering you) and throw away one or two things each time you go there. Baby steps.
Toys on the floor? I got nothing. I need one of those bath scoops, but 3 feet wide, for my living room.
April 3rd, 2008 at 8:36 am
Oooooo. Let’s blame the pregnancies! Yeah, that’s it.
April 3rd, 2008 at 8:38 am
What does it say about me that I’m not pregnant and I still shudder when opening the fridge?
April 3rd, 2008 at 8:51 am
My freezer is like that.
And my office (except for the brown goo…).
And my bedroom.
I think that only the slightly OCD can manage, like Dooce and Kristen’s husband.
April 3rd, 2008 at 10:49 am
Okay, so honestly as you were describing your fridge, I grimaced and was all, eww, that’s sick. But I don’t know why, because you totally just described me– my pantry is a nightmare. There are 6 open boxes of pasta, old trail mix that I will never eat, baby food jars, cereal that has formed a sugar-brick at the bottom of the box…it’s bad. And the worst part is I keep stacking more stuff in there and never pause to clean it out. Just make your husband do it. That’s what I’m going to do. Plus you’re pregnant, you can be like, ‘cleaning makes me nauseous…’
April 3rd, 2008 at 10:56 am
Yup - I am quite sure that your fridge contains a portal to my fridge cause you just described it in detail. I am tired enough lately that if my dear Aunt Flo hadn’t just come for a visit (a week early for some unknown reason) I would swear that I too was pregnant. I’m not though - and since you are, you’re excused.
April 3rd, 2008 at 11:27 am
Oh the fridge. Ours used to be nice and clean. That was before the Little Dude. Now, I could care less. I just keep buying more groceries to cover the messes in there until I actually have the time and desire to clean it.
April 3rd, 2008 at 11:45 am
I think this is the beginning of a beautiful contest — the my-fridge-is-more-disgusting-than-yours sweepstakes. I’m in!
April 3rd, 2008 at 11:50 am
How sick is it that now I’m in the mood for Thai after hearing about your ten day old containers of it?
April 3rd, 2008 at 11:51 am
I could have written that post word for word (minus the pregcancy). I told myself last night I needed to clean my fridge as I was trying to cram more leftovers in.
April 3rd, 2008 at 12:42 pm
You ARE working on more important things . . . like growing a person!
April 3rd, 2008 at 12:43 pm
I’m not pregnant, but my fridge looks the same. Except instead of the brown goo we have giant sticky white circles from where gallon containers of milk have sat… and been taken out and put back in so many times that now there are countless circles all overlapping and the whole bottom shelf is useless for anything except milk. lbotp is right - a disgusting-fridge contest is the next logical step here.
April 3rd, 2008 at 12:43 pm
Nest away, my darling love. And then hire someone to clean your fridge. I’ll fly out, if you like
April 3rd, 2008 at 12:54 pm
Add me to the list of people saying you are describing my life. You should have seen my laundry pile yesterday morning. It actually was more of a mountain or wall that a pile. It covered half of my bedroom….and had for a couple of weeks at least. My whole master bedroom and bathrooms make me shudder, actually. I’m not even pregnant. Go easy on yourself…you are growing an entire human being…from scratch, you know.
April 3rd, 2008 at 2:27 pm
Also? Your dildo is FILTHY.
April 3rd, 2008 at 2:37 pm
I’m so all over this post! Why can’t I make progress or stay on top of the house?? Why?
I do not know.
April 3rd, 2008 at 3:50 pm
I’m right there with everyone else.
But, I’m not pregnant, often stay in my pj’s until late in the day, am ordering out again for dinner and hardly post on my blog, let alone write something that I’d get paid for.
I’d say you are doing a whole lot better than I am!!
April 3rd, 2008 at 6:27 pm
No, no, no dear…
You’re opening MY fridge!
April 3rd, 2008 at 6:35 pm
Oh… I feel exactly the same way. I can’t seem to catch up. I feel like I have a hundred things to do… and so I can’t do any of them. And my fridge…. yeesh. I just discovered a puddle of spilled Pepsi at the bottom. Only, the Pepsi didn’t exactly “spill”… it just escaped from it’s sealed can somehow. How does that happen???
April 3rd, 2008 at 6:37 pm
You’re supposed to be lazy right now! That’s why you get nesting later! What would you do when nesting kicked in if you didn’t have months of funk to clean?
When I was pregnant with my youngest I was soooooooo tired and lazy. I had no idea how I would manage with another baby. But magically I felt way better days after she was born. I had energy and felt like doing stuff. So, I wouldn’t worry about letting things go right now. Trust your body — if it tells you to sit on your ass, do it.
Nesting will be along shortly to clean up the mess.
April 3rd, 2008 at 9:54 pm
Sheesh, you’re pregnant AND have a toddler and I can’t always keep my own fridge clean.
If I lived in Chambana I’d come over and clean your fridge and do your laundry and bring the Poo some strawberry-free yogurt.
Maybe I can drop by on my way from Albany to San Jose. Do commercial flights let you bring your own parachute?
April 3rd, 2008 at 11:38 pm
Oh my god,…you didn’t just say ship-shaped pantries. Either you’re cursed, or you’re a genius.
(Or both.)
April 6th, 2008 at 8:12 pm
i am glad i am not the only one with a dirty fridge. of course, i am single no kids, so i have no excuse. cleaning the fridge was on my list of things to do this weekend but i took a nap instead.
April 15th, 2008 at 9:03 am
[...] * Cleaned out fridge [...]
April 16th, 2008 at 8:13 pm
Wow, I felt like you were writing about me! I do the same thing with my fridge. I look inside it. I acknowledge the need to clean it. I shut the door and forget it.
And I have actually gone out and bought new clothes for my family because we had no clean laundry.
June 19th, 2008 at 12:51 pm
[...] is an argument as old as the produce in my dirty fridge. And we had it again last night, with an extra dose of pregnancy hormones and exhaustion to make it [...]