To have got a bit cross and shouty...

My husband once 'tidied' our daughter's bedroom by putting all her clothes that were on the floor into a rubbish bag. She had no idea what the individual items were and husband would only give her back what she accurately asked for and described. It was never a problem again as most of her clothes from that day went to a charity shop.

They do still love me though

I'm also a member of the tough mother club.
I would tell my children that if their rooms weren't tidy for the cleaning lady (those were the days, but I did have a job!), I would chuck everything into a bin bag and leave it at the bottom of the garden!

I only did it once and they still remember now, and threaten their own children with the same.

As for them getting up when I called them........... a wet sponge in the face only happened once too!

#notmanychanceswithme

Good luck then. Do let us know

I would just tell her....

We'll see how it goes over the next week or two.

I just tell her to go smelly, petallus. It might embarass her into being more efficient.

I think that will be my approach very soon (from next weekend even!?; I'll see how it goes), elegran! I've even got a spare clothes horse 'tower' that she can stand next to her bedroom radiator for when it's too wet outside .

Condensation isn't a problem here. It's an airy house.

I can't remember what I did with my daughters who are both now in their forties.

However, in a situation like the one you mention thatbags I think I would be so concerned that DD was going to school in a dirty uniform I would cave in at the last minute.

I realised some time ago I can't live up to the tough-lovers amongst us

Bags My two daughters were about the age of Minibags when I rebelled. I would pick up their clothes from the floor, wash them and return them folded. First rebellion was that if things were not in the laundry basket they would not get washed.So then they scooped everything up and stuffed it in.

Then one day I realised that a whole machine load of clothes were ones which I had delivered pristine the previous day - impossible to have worn them all. Light dawned - they would try each thing on, reject it and fling it down. Then it would all be sent to Mum's Laundry Service.

I led them to the washing machine, gave them a short conducted tour of how to use it, showed them how to separate tough clothes which needed a hot wash from more delicate coloureds which need warm, and how to hang things up to dry, and told them they were on their own with the washing from then on.

I seemed to buy more detergent after that, but it worked. When their little brother became a teenager, they insisted that he did his own washing too - what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander!

Me too

thatbags your right of course, I remember a lady telling me once that whilst her children were growing up, a GP friend had told her that growing up/puberty took a lot of energy and really does take it out of them so let them sleep.

jane - That's me

jane I like it.

Thatbags useful to remember the hard mother's answer to the question 'Where are my trainers?'
'Where you left them.'

Teenagers are like babies – growing fast, need lots of sleep.

Thinking that I shouldn't complain. This morning OH got up with toddler boy, took him out for breakfast, went shopping then went to the play park, all the while I was having a lie-in. Teen girl has only just got up

The kind of power I can (and do!) quite happily do without. DD had her LAST EVER reminder that if she wants clean school uniform on a Monday she has to put it in the laundry basket before Sunday evening (preferably on Friday evening). I refuse to pick it up off her bedroom floor.

If she ever even speaks to me about her uniform on a Monday morning again (can't find my this; there aren't any clean that), I'll ask her what she is going to do about it.

I'm on a roll!

Yes, I need to toughen up.

It's really strange. Two more calls from GC, one stressed about his pet wild bird having something wrong with it's eye, the other asking for his passport to be rushed down to the railway station before the train gets in.

Both times DH answered phone and then passed it to me (at their request).

Annoying but, oh the power!

That's exactly what it is, thatbags "family fun" It's what families do...test each other to almost breaking point, just because they can...

petallus, I think DH sometimes feels hard done by when I ask him to do things too, but if he even looks it I, ahem, put him right. Since the pair of them got back yesterday he has been awfully sweet. They both know that when I'm "reduced" to figurative boots up their backsides, it means they've gone too bloody far in assuming my usual adaptability and accommodations of their whims and caprices will stretch to infinity.

All great family fun, what?

Since I got up this morning I have gone out in the rain at 7 am to drive daughter to where she left her car last night, dealt with several texts requesting information/help from one of the (adult) grandchildren, had a long conversation with another (adult) grandson who lives with me about life, made a start on sorting out all our books, dusting, moving furniture.

DH has got up and sat in a chair fiddling with his ipad and only half listening to anything I say to him. Last night he was totally preoccupied with a football match and I sloped off upstairs to amuse myself.

I have to nudge him into doing jobs like the washing up, or putting his stuff away.

If I protest at all of this he doesn't feel guilty, he feels hard done by.

I think if we form a Shouty and Cross Club I should be a senior level member!

Nightowl: You have my sympathy. I once tried that experiment with the little bathroom wastebin. At the time, DS and partner were living with us, and as DH and I rarely if ever used the bin, I couldn't see why the hell I should have to empty it - yet again - when it started to overflow. If I remember rightly, it was a good couple of months before one of them finally got the message! Pretty certain it was DS, as his (ex) partner was the laziest cow you could possibly imagine.

I thought getting shouty and cross was a tantrum.

Thatbags, you are a superwoman, you deserve a medal for all that hard work, breadmaking hedge lopping, pruning, and then being expected to drive DD to riding lesson. Well done for getting shouty and cross, if that had been me I would have had a tantrum.

I love the idea of a CBA Syndrome thatbags. My husband always did Tuesday evenings meal. It was always jacket spuds, coleslaw or salad and a can of tuna along with cheese or ham, whatever was left in the fridge from the weekend. The children called it DCBB, dad can't be bothered ....

I'm currently seeing how long the kitchen bin will be left full. It's very inconvenient as I'm having to store small piles of rubbish and take them straight outside but hey, it's all in the cause of my scientific study of the male brain. Problem is, I don't think I can last out once it starts to smell.