I have been cleaning the house all morning, it is now 2:30 and I am not even half way done. It’s not that I am slow, it is that I can’t seem to get through more than 6 or 7 consecutive minutes without some kind of interruption. It is downright annoying, and my rule is unless there is blood, and a lot of it, don’t scream, “MOM!” Wanting to know if the Pop Tart that I stopped cleaning 10 minutes ago to toast for you is cool enough for you to eat now is not an emergency. You know what else is not an emergency? Asking me to come to the room you are in to hand you the TV remote! I define an emergency as anything that involves great bodily harm and/or blood. I am not talking a paper cut or the effect of peeling off the scab I have requested be left alone, I mean blood like from a head injury.
I usually start by cleaning the kid’s bathroom first, my thought is get through the worst first and it is downhill from there. Today I had a new surprise when I cleaned in there. I am used to the toothpaste, the urine, the crap, the soap stuck to the countertop, but I was not ready to find muddy footprints going up the shower wall. Obviously it is not from my kids, cuz they would never do that! I ask the kids to come take a look and help me figure out what happened. I get some half ass story about them wanting to clean their feet the other day after walking around barefoot (another rule I have asked them not to break…sigh) and once in the house they realized how dirty their feet are, AND not wanting to make another mess for me they cleaned their feet in the bathtub. Ok, I am good with that, I am even slightly impressed, but please tell me how the dirty footprints got 4 feet up on the shower wall. I cannot even begin to imagine how that happened, were they doing headstands while they cleaned? My assumption is that they most likely were swinging from the curtain rod while they washed their feet, however they still deny it was from them.
I decided today that in addition to normal cleaning that I needed to go through their bedroom closet and organize the clothes and the “stuff” that is all over inside of it. I figured I could get it done and sorted in about 20 minutes and move on to other stuff. What an effing mess, an hour later I am still pulling stuff out of there and sorting it. After a bit the kids are on to me, as they know once I go on a cleaning frenzy the odds are that some of their possessions are going in the trash. As I am sorting clothes into two piles of donate and trash, they start pulling things out of the piles and reminiscing about how that was their favorite blue shirt and they can’t believe I am throwing it away. If it was so darn special, why did you spill orange paint all over it? Now the piles I carefully sorted are spread all over the room and before I lose it I give the warning to them about getting out of my sight.
Sometimes I daydream of the days when I worked full-time and the kids were in daycare all day and I had a cleaning lady that came every two weeks so when we walked into the house it sparkled and smelled pleasantly like disinfectant. Ah, those were the days. However back then by the time I left work got the kids and arrived home we had about 2 hours to eat, bath and get ready for bed. Now we are here all day and the house is used the way a young family should use it. There are piles of dirty clothes hidden under beds, there are pieces of paper with one word littered all throughout the house and the clean smell I desire never lasts more than an hour or two after I finish cleaning. But the kids are happy and I’m happy, I just like to bitch about all of it.
So I really need to get in the shower, but I almost feel like I am betraying myself by dirtying up the last thing that I scrubbed. As I sit here and ponder what to do I realize showering is just like housework, you clean it up, get it dirty and know you got to clean it up again. Well, might as well go start the cycle again, maybe I will put my dirty wet footprints up the shower wall and see how long until anyone notices.