All day, I clean. I mean, I do other things--parenting, homeschooling, cooking, going to doctor's appointments, shopping, writing, and sometimes actual working, like for money--but, really, they are just divertissements between the main acts of my life, which are Cleaning and Cleaning.
And you'd never know it to look at my house. It being Wordless Wednesday and all, I should throw up a few candid photos, but I'm too embarrassed, so let me give you a very wordy tour.
Kitchen: table covered with mail, sink stacked with dishes from last night's dinner.
Dining room: floor needs vacuumed due to various food particles, table is sticky, chairs just look grimy, birdseed on ground by parakeet's cage.
Living room: Slipcover is dirty (I swear that's chocolate and not what it looks like), load of laundry on 'reading' chair, bucket'o'markers emptied on floor, stack of boxes in corner with hand-me-downs to be mailed to relatives in another country as soon as I pick up and fill out the customs forms.
Tyler's room: bed stripped, my suitcase from trip to Colorado on his bed waiting to be unpacked, another three loads of laundry on top of suitcase waiting to be folded and put away.
Bathroom A: discarded clothing and towels all over floor, various health and beauty products on counter.
Laundry room: looks like it was hit by an avalanche of clothing, crafts, and broken toys
Landing: floor is clear, but the decorative furniture is stacked with
crap stuff waiting to be put away on another floor.
Stairs: need vacuumed badly, need stain treated and steamed even worse, dingy walls, sticky banister, chipped paint at base where the baby gate has worn it away.
Family room: need vacuumed, stain treated, and steamed; furniture needs dusted, movies and dvds out of cases litter floor by entertainment center, one picture grouping is missing a picture, Tyler's television is sitting on the pool table, box of hand-me-downs for Grace under foosball table.
Master bedroom: worse than all the other rooms put together
Petar's room: not my problem, he's old enough to clean his own @#$%ing room and if he thinks changing his sheets once every year or two is sufficient, he can just sleep in his own cooties.
Bathroom B: toilet needs scrubbed inside and out, sink has a layer of crusted toothpaste, counter is covered with stepson's hair product, rugs and mats are visibly worn, hair dye stains on wall and cabinet (also from stepson, I don't do Miss Clairol thank-you-very-much).
Younger kids' room: beds unmade, toothpaste stains on floor and furniture (don't ask), writing on one of the walls, toys all over floor, folded laundry on dresser tops where it is virtually guaranteed to be knocked off onto the floor.
Minivan: so filled with papers and miscellaneous junk that I need to deal with that it's hard to fit my three children in the back. Could use a wash, too.
Yard: littered with toys, lawn needs mowed, beds need weeded and replanted.
Granted, it's been a difficult few weeks. Houseguests, sick kids, traveling out of state, a birthday party, and now some female problems that I will spare you details of because it would just be TMI. Still, I have to ask, at what point does a valid reason become an excuse? I am a neat freak, but you would never know it from looking around this hovel.
You would never know that today I:
- thoroughly picked up and dusted the living room and dining room
- sorted and dealt with yesterday's mail
- paid a few bills
- talked to doctor's medical assistant about something I forgot to ask about at yesterday's appointment
- cleaned out the refrigerator
- took out trash
- remembered to pull the trash to the curb
- updated my website
- did three loads of laundry
- hung out and took down same three loads
- folded four loads of laundry
- planned and executed three meals
- emptied dish drainer
- oh, and cared for three small children.
And it's not even four o'clock.
Anyway, this is why I sometimes flop on the couch and watch Clean House even though my own house itself desperately needs cleaned. Because I want to see what it looks like when people don't clean their homes, just to know that it isn't identical to what it looks like when people clean constantly.