Yesterday I found myself in what has in blogworld been deemed the seventh circle of hell. And rightly so.
Yet I went willingly.
On a Saturday afternoon (next only to Saturday night in popularity for seekers of the seventh circle).
Yes, I went to Wal-Mart.
Why? You may ask?
In search of cleaning supplies. I somehow thought that if I could arm myself with the latest and greatest in cleaning tools and products I would also somehow find myself allied with sufficient reserves to mount a coup against the state of chaos that is ruling at my house.
I roamed through the now randomly rearranged aisles of the Orem Wal-Mart--which is, quite literally, the worst-kept, worst-stocked and worst-staffed Wal-Mart in the intermountain west--comparing brand names, calculating cost per ounce, imagining the ease with which each purchase would attack the mess waiting to ambush me at home.
I was misguided.
I also have ADD of housework.
I became distracted by the slick new vinyl of a bright orange backpack. The affordable price tag of fall colors in T-shirts and cargo shorts. The very last pair of the perfect shoes for my soon-to-be second grader.
I flew home just in time to get ready for the rare dinner date with my husband. And then we hit Costco for a great deal on socks for almost the entire family and some dress pants for my third-grade-teacher husband (am I the only one who has to do back-to-school shopping for the husband along with the kids?). And then caught the last day of the backpacks-are-40% off sale at Shopko. We also picked up more shoes and shirts for son and for spouse. And of course, because we were in the neighborhood, we had to stop and have some of our favorite pudding.
Of course when I finally arrived home last night I realized I was simply much too tired for cleaning house.
So today I have decided this:
I am just not cut out for it. I am not the keep-the-house-in-order guy.
I never will be.
...even armed with sixty-seven dollars and fifty-eight cents worth of the latest and greatest in cleaning products and gadgets.
I hereby resolve to run up the dust cloth along the broom handle and surrender.
What is is what is.
I will find it in my heart to do enough to keep cockroaches (Kidding. Do we even have cockroaches in Utah?) and DCFS at bay and be comfortable allowing at least those who love me anyway through the front door. But I will get over having been the first person in the history of the universe to fail even my very own free online coach, cheerleader, and fairy-godmother for decluttering and organizing your home and life, quit trying to be something I'm not.
And just try to be happy in my own . . . state of grace.
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14 comments:
What will those nutty Happy Valley folk come up with next? Rice pudding?! I'm speechless!!! Actually, I love rice pudding, kheer really. My sister is begging me to come down for the weekend, (and I'm trying to figure out if I can go to the BYU social work alumni conference and write off some of the travel as business), so I'm definitely putting the rice factory on my list of to-do's.
Do you ever get those ads in the mail about "the wrong person is cleaning your house!!"? I hate those things. I feel annoyed that I have to clean my own house, and then I feel tricked by advertisers because I know (and so do they) that most people on the planet do indeed clean their own spaces.
Fly Lady worked for me for about a week.
We can be Fly-Drop outs together.
(She was just too needy, she emailed me 10 times a day--I'm at WORK I don't need the reminder that I'm not cleaning my house. We're not talking.)
i love pudding on the rice! half of it is for the taste and the other half is for the coolest names around for their puddings! my favorite name is probably "red rum". of course, the people i was with didn't understand its significance and i tried to explain it, but they just didn't get it. sad day.
cleaning is over rated. its just going to get messy again so why bother?
I CAHN'T DO IT, CAP'N!
I have given a name to my pain, and it is Housekeeping ADD. We were obviously meant to be friends.
I go through massive bursts of housecleaning inspiration sometimes.
For everything there is a time and season. This is just not my time or season.
I just love using oft repeated Mormonisms for my own benefit.
I loathe the fly lady.
Amen.
My cleaning lady, Anna, will be here tomorrow morning at 10am sharp with her products, vacuum and a big hug for her client. She might be illegal but speaks English well so I don't care. I swear (yeah, sometimes I do it in front of others) she's worth the $30 every-other-week in sanity. Sanity's worth that, isn't it? Besides, I don't have to dust the expensive cleaners sitting on the shelf anymore ;O)
It's only $30 every other week? Can I have her phone number?
I actually found myself thinking, as I drove up the Sandhill Road hill toward my home, that maybe I was wrong.
Maybe all those people who tell you you should take your "housewife" job (to clarify, I do not use the words housewife and homemaker interchangeably) as seriously as you would your paid work were right.
Maybe if I would've gotten up every day and laced up and tied my shoes and painstakingly applied my make-up before I started sloshing disinfectant around in the toilet bowls my life would've turned out better.
Had more meaning...
That thought lasted for about 30 seconds.
Then I started to think about all the friends I've made and all the good times I've had because I wasn't chained to my routine and I decided whatever works for you is OK. Kudos to all the meticulous ones. But there's certainly room for us grasshoppers, too.
Carrot--right now we're in the middle of a Family Home Argument project of removing the "white trash" pile from the backyard and side of the house. But I promise I will get to my dryer. I can't wait to play!
Um...dare I raise my semi-organized hand to join this discussion? I have come to believe that perfectionists like me are ultimately lazy. I HATE cleaning, as my husband will attest. So I do the minimum I can to keep things somewhat tidy (NOT perfect), just so I don't have to clean so often.
However, in my defense, I've decided that if people come to my house and see it dirty, so what? Good people will like me for who I am and not for the condition in which I keep my house. I refuse to judge a person by the house they keep (or don't keep, whatever the case may be).
House cleaning is over-rated....especially when you have kids. A house should be lived in.
btw. yes there are plenty of roaches in Utah...they typically don't get as big as say....Amazon size roaches...the fact that your house does not have them is a blessing indeed
What I find facinating is the very different meanings we give to works like "clean". I bet what I think of and what you think of for that word are different in some very basic ways. My grandmother would turn over in her toolbox if she knew I pick up a shirt off the floor and sniff it to see if it needs hung up or washed. But hey, just cause it's on the floor does NOT automatically mean its dirty, right? I need a certain amount of order in some parts of the house to be comfortable, and -oddly enough- a certain amount of disaray in OTHER parts of the house to feel relaxed. My office is perpetually cluttered and I like it just fine that way. My upstairs bathroom gets a bit grimy between weekend cleaning binges. My downstairs bathroom has to be clean at all times or I get cranky. (More because it is very small than because guests are most likely to use that one). We each find our own balance. The trick is to find YOUR OWN level of what works for you and not be chained to someone else's expectations.
i'm glad that other pick up clothes off the floor and smell them to see if they need to be washed or not. sometimes i am too lazy to hang up clothes and would rather just chuck them in my clothes hamper to be washed another day. which reminds me, i need to do laundry. i'll do it tomorrow. i still have clean underwear.
Febreeze works well if you're getting a little desparate...
I'm with julie. I won't judge a person based on the condition of their house, but I will use a great amount of discernment when offered food from certain homes. I consider Ward Potlucks to be one of the unspoken of Biblical plagues.
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