I may have mentioned that I like to watch Hoarders now and then in a previous blog post. I suppose it should be classified more 'inspirational' than 'educational' as it was suggested. I can look at those houses and say, 'Well, it's not perfect but at least it's not as bad as that'.
Most days I try to keep the house clean. Anyone who's ever tried to do this full time can attest to how frustrating and impossible this task is. Compounding that with a small gremlin at home and my effed up back, well, it would probably be easier to just bang my head against the wall for 3 hours a day rather than expend that energy on cleaning.
It's not that I don't clean. I do. On a daily basis. However, it never fails - I will finally get all the dishes done and Chris will choose that moment to finish eat/drinking whatever and bring those dishes to the sink. It is at that moment, standing there with soap up to my elbows, tired, and sweaty that I want to kill him the most. (Second moment being when he's peacefully snoring next to me 5 minutes after the lights go out while I'm tossing and turning for another 5 hours). I would give my left tit for a dishwasher, I swear, but it's not even on the list.
Yesterday I spent half the morning sweeping and cleaning up the floors. I stood in the entry way between the living room and kitchen, broom upright with the stern countenance of an Amazon, daring some hapless dustbunny to show his face. I spent the other half of the morning oraganizing the baby items that have overtaken the living room like jungle vines, choking out any sign of grown-up stuff. And, of course, by the end of the day, the dust bunnies and baby stuff were all having a party in the middle of the living room. A party that I wasnt invited, too, I might add. I considered getting up and showing them who's boss, but it's quite obviously them.
I have to say that of all the jobs I've done in my life this is the one with the heaviest work load and least amount of thanks. There is no end to the dirty diapers, the dirty laundry, the dirty dishes, and the dirty litter box. There is no end to trash can that needs to be emptied, the mail that needs to be sorted, the floors that need to be swept and mopped, and the bottles that need to be washed and sterilized. And nobody ever says, "Hey, you did a great job making sure the laundry was folded and put away." Because that would be silly, anyway. It's not like I cured cancer or anything. I just did what had to be done. Rinse, repeat.
I'm not really complaining. Well, much. Because even though this is hard, boring work, I get to spend the days with the baby. Sometimes it's a good thing. Her smile lights up her whole face and it's fun when she does something new, showing me that she is developing and there is light at the end of the tunnel. It's just so frustrating to put so much energy towards a job that is never done. Never will be done. There will never be a time that I clean the house and it will last more than a few hours (if that, even). But this is a home that's meant to be lived in. We're supposed to live in it and mess it up. I just wish it didnt get so messy so quickly.
Someone needs to hurry up with a self-cleaning house, already. Those Roomba's and Scooba's are neat but arent meant for the heavy duty traffic that is my cats, 2 adults, and a gremlin. Maybe, maybe I could teach the cats how to clean the house. At the very least I should tie a feather duster to their little tails and let them loose in the house. I suspect that wouldnt accomplish much, except make me laugh, which would be worth it at this point.
Most days I try to keep the house clean. Anyone who's ever tried to do this full time can attest to how frustrating and impossible this task is. Compounding that with a small gremlin at home and my effed up back, well, it would probably be easier to just bang my head against the wall for 3 hours a day rather than expend that energy on cleaning.
It's not that I don't clean. I do. On a daily basis. However, it never fails - I will finally get all the dishes done and Chris will choose that moment to finish eat/drinking whatever and bring those dishes to the sink. It is at that moment, standing there with soap up to my elbows, tired, and sweaty that I want to kill him the most. (Second moment being when he's peacefully snoring next to me 5 minutes after the lights go out while I'm tossing and turning for another 5 hours). I would give my left tit for a dishwasher, I swear, but it's not even on the list.
Yesterday I spent half the morning sweeping and cleaning up the floors. I stood in the entry way between the living room and kitchen, broom upright with the stern countenance of an Amazon, daring some hapless dustbunny to show his face. I spent the other half of the morning oraganizing the baby items that have overtaken the living room like jungle vines, choking out any sign of grown-up stuff. And, of course, by the end of the day, the dust bunnies and baby stuff were all having a party in the middle of the living room. A party that I wasnt invited, too, I might add. I considered getting up and showing them who's boss, but it's quite obviously them.
I have to say that of all the jobs I've done in my life this is the one with the heaviest work load and least amount of thanks. There is no end to the dirty diapers, the dirty laundry, the dirty dishes, and the dirty litter box. There is no end to trash can that needs to be emptied, the mail that needs to be sorted, the floors that need to be swept and mopped, and the bottles that need to be washed and sterilized. And nobody ever says, "Hey, you did a great job making sure the laundry was folded and put away." Because that would be silly, anyway. It's not like I cured cancer or anything. I just did what had to be done. Rinse, repeat.
I'm not really complaining. Well, much. Because even though this is hard, boring work, I get to spend the days with the baby. Sometimes it's a good thing. Her smile lights up her whole face and it's fun when she does something new, showing me that she is developing and there is light at the end of the tunnel. It's just so frustrating to put so much energy towards a job that is never done. Never will be done. There will never be a time that I clean the house and it will last more than a few hours (if that, even). But this is a home that's meant to be lived in. We're supposed to live in it and mess it up. I just wish it didnt get so messy so quickly.
Someone needs to hurry up with a self-cleaning house, already. Those Roomba's and Scooba's are neat but arent meant for the heavy duty traffic that is my cats, 2 adults, and a gremlin. Maybe, maybe I could teach the cats how to clean the house. At the very least I should tie a feather duster to their little tails and let them loose in the house. I suspect that wouldnt accomplish much, except make me laugh, which would be worth it at this point. 
And this is why I now appreciate Mother's Day! Well, one reason. Because dammit we deserve a "thank you" once a year at least.
ReplyDeleteWe didn't have a dishwasher for the longest time, either. When you do get to where you can get one, find one with a child-lock option! We opted to spend a bit more for one with all buttons, because Razi figured out at 10 months old how to turn the dial on the one we had at the apartment you visited. We also got one with a depressed handle to open, as the kids don't have strong enough fingers to use it (yet.) But the biggest thing was the button I can hold down for 10 seconds to activate the child lock (the washer and dryer we bought also have the same feature.)
My house is horrid, too. Some days are better than others, but a lot of times I have to make the choice to not care. And you know how "easy" that is for me. xD It's better now that the kids are older because they like to help even if their help really...doesn't.
I was very relieved to learn this week that I'm not the only parent to sing clean-up songs every frickin day. They're annoying, but oh do they work! "Come on everybody, it's clean up time! Clean up time, clean up time!"
The first day I cleaned the living room and it stayed spotless for 15 minutes (I'm not exaggerating, seriously fifteen minutes) I celebrated.