This is the Way We Clean the House

What a wonderful day! I only stepped out of the house long enough to deliver my sweet children to the grandparents' house and then head back to my cozy home to clean, clean, clean. There is nothing like an empty house and no appointments that just lends itself to making the most of a little caffine-induced energy.

I got the whole house picked up and vacuumed today, and I even mopped the entire hardwood floor. I washed three loads of clothes and started on the actual "cleaning" before it was time to stop for dinner. Tomorrow, I will do the down-and-dirty cleaning stuff like bathrooms and dusting, and maybe even get to the baseboards and ceiling fans...and perhaps even...the windows.

I was thinking as I was mopping the floor for the second time in less than a week (instead of two times a year...definitely a record,) and I recalled a conversation I'd had recently with a friend who has a house cleaning service. The friend said I should "get someone" to come over and do my cleaning for me every week or so. Then the house would be clean, and I would have all this time to myself to do things I wanted. I assured the friend that, although my house was far from Southern Living picture-perfect all the time, that I was managing, thankyouverymuch.

I had a cleaning service once upon a time. The gals would come over every other week to dust and mop and clean the bathrooms and vacuum. They were in and out of my house in about an hour, and when they left, the house SEEMED clean. But on closer inspection, there was the telltale evidence that the deep-clean just wasn't there. And then there were the items that turned up missing and were later located in the garbage bags from their visit. I was rummaging through trash every time they left just to make sure nothing was pitched that shouldn't have been.

I finally decided that I was quite capable of keeping this little house under control all by myself, so when the opportunity arose, I declined their services and went back to doing all the chores myself. Well, not all of them. I taught the kids to do some of them, and they are very capable themselves.

Anyway, I was thinking about all this as I was pushing the Swiffer back and forth across the floor. I mean, what else is there to do, right? And I came to the conclusion that I made the right choice in letting the "help" go.

Who else would realize that the little fuzzy ball on the floor is not trash, but a treasured cat toy?

Who else would know that the realistic tomato wedge on the floor is not old food, but part of a realistic plastic salad the kids use when they play restaurant?

Who else would know not to toss the popsicle sticks with the purple paint on them because they are part of a pirate ship my daughter made?

Who else would know that the white socks with the yellow stripe on the toe belong to my daughter, while the white socks with the red stripe go in my son's room?

Who else would know to put the grey pants in the laundry, but the darker grey pants in the dry cleaner bag?

Who else would bend over while vacuuming and rescue the 1/4" piece of K'nex because it goes to my son's space shuttle?

Who else would know the skinny markers go in one bin while the fat markers go in another?

Who else would know in which box to put the stray puzzle piece?

There is no way under the sun to convey all the nuances of a home to people who only come by one day every other week to "tidy" the spaces and swipe a feather duster and vacuum cleaner over them. There is no way to tell them how much certain things mean, no matter how much they resemble garbage. There's just no way to get that much "personal" into a service.

Therefore, I'll clean my own house, thankyouverymuch.