Domestic Chaos Quotes

When you're juggling children, a marriage and a couple of jobs, something has to give - and, for me, it's living in a perfectly tidy home.

The family. We are a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms. . . and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.

I was brought up in a household of chaos and I never felt stable at home. At a really young age, I decided I was never going to feel helpless, I was never going to feel weak around a man, and I was never going to rely on anyone. Independence was a big, big thing for me.

Paul patted Mrs. O'Leary's snout. The living room shook —BOOM, BOOM, BOOM—which either meant a SWAT team was breaking down the door or Mrs. O'Leary was wagging her tail. I couldn't help but smile.

I warn you, I'm a terrible housekeeper.

I grew up in a house with all girls, so I'm used to having a lot of hormones around that can create craziness.

But the dust! And the clutter! My housewifely and scholarly instincts were equally offended.

Excuse the mess but we live here.

Even cooking at home, the difference between my wife cooking and me cooking is major. When my wife cooks, the kitchen looks like a disaster. When I cook it's completely clean and organized and it doesn't look like anyone has been cooking in there.

Novel writing wrecks homes.

The outcome can truly determine whether our homes will be destroyed, whether our children will be torn from their mothers, trained as conspirators and turned against their parents, their home and their church.

If a woman gets insomnia, you never know where you're going to find her furniture the next morning. It's primal. We have so little we can control, but we can perfect the way our room looks.

Julia [Roberts]. She's got two kids and animals, and I think she's a night nibbler. There'd be crumbs everywhere.

The last thing that scared me... it was probably something stupid, like when someone jumped out at me, or I thought my new dog had gone to the toilet underneath my piano. Lots of silly things.

Out on the street, you never know what you're getting, and suddenly two days later you're beating yourself in the head with a tennis racket, wearing a towel, quoting Poe. You don't want that for your kid. You really don't want that.

My house was a revolving door. You walk in, you walk out, you get whatever you can eat, you leave, you go hang out with friends. I'm on my mission, my sister's on another mission, my dad is working trying to provide, my mom is trying to do the same thing. And somehow, we're all co-existing with each other.

Wives and such are constantly filling up any refrigerator they have a claim on, even its ice-compartment, with irrelevant rubbish like food.

I've come to see the mosh pit as an apt description of American society - and of my childhood home. I was number nine of ten creative, mostly loud kids competing for airspace.

Every family is a crazy family.

Everything you do, burns calories. Getting up in the morning, 100 calories; kicking the hooker out of your bed, another 100; diapering your monkey, 35 calories; laughing at a midget, fun and 10 calories; catching your girlfriend with another guy, 2000-3000 calories, depending on backswings.

Our life may look glamorous, but we scream at the kids, and I have to tell Jamie to tidy up if we have guests coming over.

For me, 'The Goldbergs' was about surviving a crazy family - and believe me, the show is a sanitized version!

With two sons born eighteen months apart, I operated mainly on automatic pilot through the ceaseless activity of their early childhood. I remember opening the refrigerator late one night and finding a roll of aluminum foil next to a pair of small red tennies. Certain that I was responsible for the refrigerated shoes, I quickly closed the door and ran upstairs to make sure I had put the babies in their cribs instead of the linen closet.

[My mother] once cooked a ham and later found it in my father's shirt drawer. I am not kidding.

Our house was always filled with dogs... They helped make our house a kennel, it is true, but the constant patter of their filthy paws and the dreadful results of their brainless activities have warmed me throughout the years.