Cleaning

Why do I wait so long between cleanings? Why is it that the only thing to motivate me is company coming? If I were smart, I'd clean weekly so it doesn't freak me out that I only have 48 hours to clean before 10 people invade my house for turkey dinner.

This year a crawler is coming too. Which means I have to really scrub 12 inches above the floor line. It's been a long time since I had a baby in my house.

I started in the dining room. I figured I would gradually work into the messier rooms. Our dining room usually stays clean. Having 6 for dinner on Wednesday night which means gotta find the table insert to make the table longer. Hmmm, where did I put that table insert? After looking in 3 closets, I found the insert and wala! The table can now fit 6 comfortably. Crap. The table cloth is now too short. Maybe I can find the tablecloth I bought in the after Christmas sales last year. I don't have time for that now. The old tablecloth goes back on and it is a little short, but who's going to really look? 48 hours and ticking.

I grab all my shoes that I have worn for the past month that have been growing into piles in the dining room and throw them in a laundry basket. I will haul them upstairs later.

I then collect all the sweaters and coats I have worn that have matched the piles of shoes and throw them in another laundry basket. I will haul them upstairs later.

Then I start picking up all the jewelry that I remove every day when I get home from work and leave in the dining room. I was excited when I found a silver hoop earring that I thought I had lost months ago.

I vaccuum, I dust. The floor is spotless as is 12 inches above the floor line. I stand up with my hands on my hips and admire my work.

Then it's on to the living room. I have to take a deep breath cause this is where I live. As my father used to say "where she sits, she shits." I have a small section on my couch the size of my butt cause I sit in the same spot every night. And all my favorite things are within reach of that spot. I have 7 bottles of 1/2 empty water bottles. A couple are on the floor as my cat thinks it is fun to knock them over. A start of a crocheted afghan lies on the floor. Yarn is everywhere as again my cat thinks it is fun to play with the yarn. I lost the crochet hook several days ago. And I have a stack of bills that are either to be paid, paid or need to be filed. And of course all the junk paper companies stick with the invoices. Does anyone read that extra stuff? I just recycle that crap on the floor thinking I will pick it up and throw it away... tomorrow.

But I hustle around the living room and throw stuff in the wastepaper basket. My husband comes up from the basement every so often to find the wastepaper basket filled with non-essentials and he empties it. Nice guy.

Time to wash the windows in my french doors. I am spritzing away and cleaning like Cinderella. My husband comes up for the next wastepaper basket emptying and he about slips on the floor. "What the ..." he asks? Apparently the windex that I am spraying on the windows is overflowing to the floor. I try walking on the wooden floor and YIKES I about fall too. Could it be... that I ... OVER CLEANED???

I shrug it off as the windows now glisten but the furniture does not. Out comes the sucky thing on the vaccuum hose. The cat runs for her life. I am sucking up candy corn from last easter, old christmas tree needles, I found ANOTHER earring I thought I had lost. Man, I am on a roll!!
I even sucked the fireplace grill!! I moved the tv and discovered this is where the cat has hidden all her toys. I grab them all and throw them towards the cat. She is beyond excited. Doesn't know what to do. She spins around the very clean floor playing with her toys. It's like christmas came early for her.

The living room is sparkling.

I have to step over the clothes and the shoes in their respective laundry baskets but I head on to the two guest bedrooms.

One room I have used to store art supplies and frames for my artist daughter. And I have tons of frames. Everywhere. And the mats to go with the frames. Everywhere. And the cardboard backings to go with the matts that go with the frames. Everywhere. I sigh. Then I close the door and go into the other bedroom.

Not so bad!! There are my tennis shoes I have been searching for!! Those shoes go in the shoe laundry basket. I strip the bed and here comes my cat with a toy in her mouth and wants to play. No time kitty! Momma has to clean. 48 hours and counting!!

I shake the rug, remake the bed. Dust and vaccuum. Shoe out the cat and leave the room smiling.

Off to the bathroom. Aaah, the cat is thirsty and drinking out of the toilet. Isn't she special. GET OUT OF THERE!!!! Out comes the pinesol. Only I bought generic pinesol and doesn't have that earthy smell. But I bought it, so I use it. Splash Splash in the sink and hang up some clean towels. Make sure there is clean soap in the shower and I'm outta there.

Nothing left now. Gotta face that OTHER bedroom. I open the door and sure enough. The elves did not show up. The room is still a disaster. But wait!! The Vikings are playing today at noon and I should eat something first and watch my team. This cleaning can wait.

Usually I eat lunch in my living room waiting the tv but not today. Not in that sparkling clean living room. Today the cat and I eat in the kitchen. I watch my team score on the kitchen 10 inch tv. I am careful to eat OVER my plate as my husband just cleaned the kitchen and would NOT be happy to see crumbs on the floor. Why doesn't a cat eat table scraps that fall off the table like a dog?

Ok, gotta do it now. I have eaten and feel energized. Gotta go in that bedroom and attack!! I am like a crazed woman. I am throwing frames left and right. I have the staple gun in one hand to put away, masking tape stuck to my sweat pants and cardboard hanging out of my mouth. My cat hisses at me. Isn't she special. I put the frames and accessories in the closet and quickly shut the closet door. I strip the bed, vaccuum and dust and ready to leave another clean room when I hear a racket. In the closet. Open the door and my cat jumps out.

I am just about to sit down for a well deserved rest when my husband says, "When do you want to go grocery shopping?" I am sweating like a pig, I smell like cheap pinesol, my hair is glued to my head as I haven't combed it yet today and I don't think I even brushed my teeth this morning. I reply "now is good." Yup. I am a vision yet I don't really care. 48 hours and counting.

We get the groceries with everyone else in Dubuque and head home. We enter our house and it is breathtaking. It even smells clean. Everything is picked up and presentable. The cat is even sleeping on the couch. It's a Kodak moment.

We put the groceries away and have a lovely dinner. In the kitchen, eating over our plates.

My husband heads for his basement and I haul the first of the laundry baskets full of shoes upstairs to our bedroom. Ohhh, I might have forgotten to mention. Everything I picked up in all the other rooms I had thrown in our bedroom. I cannot see the carpet in our bedroom. I kick my way to make a path and put down the first of the laundry baskets. I go back downstairs and retrieve the second laundry basket of clothes and haul that upstairs to our bedroom.

I close our bedroom door. Outta sight, outta mind.

Tonight I will bask in the glory of my clean house. Tomorrow I will clean our bedroom. Or not. Will anyone really look in our bedroom anyways? And I did make a path. 48 hours and counting.