There. I said it.
I absolutely abhor dishes. And laundry. Don’t even get me started on laundry. It wouldn’t be so bad if the Mini-Monster didn’t insist on pulling all of the clothes out of his and his brother’s dressers every time I finally finish putting it all away. But he does. And I despise laundry.
Unless I’m angry or frustrated. Then the crazy clean fairy comes out and will scrub that grout to a sparkly shine. This is only entertaining when it happens early in the morning and Daddy wakes up to find me scrubbing something – his immediate concern about my impending explosion (which really is rarely based on anything having to do with him) is almost enough to make the crazy clean fairy pack up her favorite cleaning toothbrush.
Anyway, I’m not by any means the mom with the clean house. Do I let the kids pick up a fruit snack they dropped on the floor and pop it back in their mouth? Of course I do. Is the floor actually clean enough to eat off? Not a chance. I think of it as good exercise for the immune system.
I probably shouldn’t have let that little confession slip. Oh well.
Anyway, the other day we were cleaning. Partly because we have company coming, partly because Daddy comes home in a couple days – but mostly because the house is completely trashed and mommy had PMS.
Of course, as much as I dislike cleaning – it’s a million times worse with two sick kids, and one tired one. Throw in the little dog who is DETERMINED make me trip and break my neck – mommy was kinda scary that day. It shouldn’t have taken me more than 20 minutes to clean the kids rooms. The only thing in Kaleb’s rooms were Legos – and while Mason’s room looked like it was struck by the Toys-R-Us tornado, it was mostly big stuff – easy.
The two little ones were right behind me making bigger messes out of the toys I had just cleaned, the dog was wherever my feet were going, and Kaleb was just standing in the doorway screaming. It took me nearly two hours to clean those two rooms.
Why? Why can’t you just let mommy clean? Not that it much matters. Two days later the house once again looks like it was struck by a kid tornado. It all just seems kind of futile and insane. Clean. Destroy. Clean. Destroy. Wash, rinse, repeat.
I suppose the point of this is just for me to admit that we’re a mess. The laundry is almost never put away the same day it’s washed. I’d probably go postal without the dishwasher. And my kids are like little disasters just waiting to happen. But the toys everywhere are also a sign of how much fun we have. The crumbs on the floor are dropped at meals that we all enjoy (rarely together since I don’t actually get to eat most of my meals, but still). Our house is a mess. You can pretty much count on that. But we have oh so much fun making it that way.
So now our company is here. And she walked into a bit of a disaster. But, it wasn’t as bad as it could be, so I’ll take the win. Plus, the house smells like muffins right now, and that makes everything better.