Obsessive compulsive mom

When I was still a kid I was hopelessly burara. My folks would always complain that my room (or part of the room when I was still sharing with my sibs) is a pigsty. My bed was always unkempt. I have packets of junk food stashed everywhere. And my collection of Sweet Valley Twins and High were scattered on the bed, on the floor, on top of the TV…well, they were found anywhere but the bookshelf. 

Surprisingly I turned into an OC Mom and Wife. I really feel agitated whenever I see one of H’s toy cars, blocks or discarded papers lying on the floor. Because both kids have plenty of toys accumulated over the years, my husband and I bought and re-used huge plastic storage boxes to segregate, organize and keep all of their toys and knick-knacks. Whenever H takes out his toys to play, I make him pack them away before sleeping or moving to another set of toys. 

scattered toys

I cringe when the kids mix their toys. Or when H puts the blocks in the plastic box for his alphabet magnets. Even if I stay up late I really make time to sort out the megblocks from the small legos, the alphabet wooden blocks from the plastic alphabets, or the small cars from the big cars. I can’t sleep well knowing the toys are in disarray anyway. 

My OC-ness extends beyond the children’s toys. If you open their closet, their pyjamas are piled in pairs. So do their house short and shirts. Their casual and formal wear should be hanged. For T, her diapers must be kept in the right cabinet. The left cabinet is solely for bed linens and towels. This is one of the reasons why I hate changing yayas. I have to re-train them over and over. I don’t want their own method of organizing clothes. I WANT MY WAY!

Triple check the doors

At night I double and triple check the locks. Even if my husband is already fast asleep, I wake him up to re-check the gates. I also get irritated if he leaves our closet doors ajar. Yes, I’m that OC ladies and gents. I toss and turn if I see our closet doors open. No matter how sleepy am I, I feel I have to get up to kick shut the doors.  

Yet, I don’t think I am a candidate for expert help. Yes I tend to worry  about a lot of things. And my hands are somewhat dry because I love to wash hands or use sanitizer a lot. But so far my OC-ness does not impair our normal lives. I do tend to drive my loves nuts with my quirks (sometimes I yell at my husband and H when they leave crumbs after snacking in bed. Lol). I do think it’s just part of wanting to be a perfect wife and Mom. I’m sure most of you have that tinge of domestic OC-ness somewhere or somehow. Don’t be in denial. 

It looks like the Clomipramine did not work.

Suggested reading:

On the other hand…

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About Ira Martin

They say women marry men who look like their dad. Or at least, similar in attitude and values. My father is a (retired) professional banker who's very family-oriented. So is my husband.

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