I enjoy having a clean house.
I do not necessarily enjoy the process of getting it clean. I especially hate bathroom cleaning and moving everything on book shelves to dust them. I do not mind doing laundry. I do not enjoy folding and I detest putting it all away.
I prefer activities that bring me *joy* (who doesn't?) and vacuuming my carpet doesn't bring JOY. Satisfaction yes. For a brief period of time (until the next crumb explosion or dirty-shoe-tracking incident).
All of that said, I spent a good two hours today cleaning. The boys' bathroom was getting pretty grotty around the edges and our bathoom mirror was a study in splatter marks (courtesy of my children - everyone prefers our bathroom when it's time to brush teeth and fling water around). I dusted last week but had failed to vacuum so that was becoming a necessity as well.
Generally speaking, I think I am a decent housekeeper. Not stellar but I am definitely not a house of squalor and no one's ever going to come to my house and then whisper in a horrified voice to another friend about how she was too afraid to touch anything or sit anyhere but the edge of a hard kitchen chair because of the disgusting condition of the home. That would not be my house.
Usually, I'm pretty good. I hate little bits of cr*p on my kitchen floor so I'm pretty diligent about sweeping that. I cannot function in clutter so we pick up a little bit almost every day.
But today, I was vacuuming my bedroom and found little white bits of drywall along the wall under my window. Like the kind of debris that comes from drilling holes to install, say, a new curtain rod. Which my husband did. IN DECEMBER. Yikes. How did it get to be June and I'm just now finding this stuff on my bedroom floor?
Hmmmm.
I'm going to blame it on the lovely curtains that are now hanging from that curtain rod since they come almost all the way to the floor. Yeah, that's it. The dirt was hiding from me.
Heads up to dirt in my house - you want to hang out for a while, find a place to hide.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Random things for today
I had forgotten that the last time I posted before today I was still a bit obsessed with lists a la Facebook style.
More random things from me (v. 4/09):
* I attended 3 different high schools in 4 years. No two consecutive years at the same one.
* I chased a rabbit out of my yard last night with my 3yo, completely oblivious to how I might appear to random strangers. The random strangers I met were my new neighbors. That was a little embarrassing. They seem very nice.
* I am claustrophic to a degree not easily expressible. I am learning that non-claustrophobic people don't seem to get it. At all. Knowing it's in my head doesn't mean I can control the awful fear I have of suffocating.
* I have been known to say that my worst fear is something happening to my kids but that's not quite true. I won't even entertain those thoughts long enough to allow them to become fears. My worst fears involve terrible injuries to myself.
* My husband has spent part of every March for the last 14 years in Springfield, IL, with me, working with YMCA Youth & Government. He has never been to a single Lincoln site. I am racked with guilt over this. I am hoping to rectify that this summer.
More random things from me (v. 4/09):
* I attended 3 different high schools in 4 years. No two consecutive years at the same one.
* I chased a rabbit out of my yard last night with my 3yo, completely oblivious to how I might appear to random strangers. The random strangers I met were my new neighbors. That was a little embarrassing. They seem very nice.
* I am claustrophic to a degree not easily expressible. I am learning that non-claustrophobic people don't seem to get it. At all. Knowing it's in my head doesn't mean I can control the awful fear I have of suffocating.
* I have been known to say that my worst fear is something happening to my kids but that's not quite true. I won't even entertain those thoughts long enough to allow them to become fears. My worst fears involve terrible injuries to myself.
* My husband has spent part of every March for the last 14 years in Springfield, IL, with me, working with YMCA Youth & Government. He has never been to a single Lincoln site. I am racked with guilt over this. I am hoping to rectify that this summer.
Otis at 36
P received a copy of Beverly Cleary's _Otis Spofford_ from the Easter Bunny. A mischievous 8yo boy for a mischievous 8yo boy. Seemed a good fit.
I realized while reading it with him that I have read it before. Years ago. I was a big Beverly Cleary fan - Ralph the Mouse (which is what reminded me to introduce BC to my big kid), Ramona Quimby, Ellen Tebbits, and Otis.
P loved Otis. Otis, years after reading him for the first time, simply made me sad. Otis has no father, his mother is constantly working and has little time for him, and the lady who is supposed to watch him after school is mean. He likes to stir things up and as a mom (or maybe just as a grown-up?) it seems clear that all he wants is a little attention. And lacking positive attention, he'll take it any old way he can get it. It's not a book about friends and it made me sad to read. I hope P doesn't ask me to read it again anytime soon.
I realized while reading it with him that I have read it before. Years ago. I was a big Beverly Cleary fan - Ralph the Mouse (which is what reminded me to introduce BC to my big kid), Ramona Quimby, Ellen Tebbits, and Otis.
P loved Otis. Otis, years after reading him for the first time, simply made me sad. Otis has no father, his mother is constantly working and has little time for him, and the lady who is supposed to watch him after school is mean. He likes to stir things up and as a mom (or maybe just as a grown-up?) it seems clear that all he wants is a little attention. And lacking positive attention, he'll take it any old way he can get it. It's not a book about friends and it made me sad to read. I hope P doesn't ask me to read it again anytime soon.
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