Mad Rantings Precipitated By Cleaning Induced Psychosis

I am in an absolute frenzy of cleaning.

I used to keep an immaculate house, even when I had small children. But after 13 years, frankly, I'm tired. And it all seems so pointless. Floors get muddied again. Toilets get crapped in again. Ceiling fans, knick knacks and fixtures get coated in dust again.

And nobody cares. Nope. I think it's safe to say that my home could be condemned and still my family would be blisffully ignorant to the fact that they are living in a toxic waste dump.

So I became pretty apathetic about cleaning. And it was pretty easy for me to lower my standards, because I don't derive any particular sense of satisfaction from cleaning, partially because it's never done. How can anyone feel satisfied with something that will just have to done over again?

I'm still very neat and organized because clutter bugs me. When my home is cluttered, I just can't think. I'm sure there's some sort of psychology there. I have baskets, bins, folders, and files for everything.

But the day to day stuff has really slipped.

I used to vacuum daily, now it's sometimes weeks. I used to dust weekly, now it's sometimes months. I used to detail everything monthly, now it's sometimes years.

But...my parents are coming to visit on Friday.

I really didn't intend to do deep cleaning, because this weeks has been hellaciously busy, and honestly, my Mom doesn't care. And it would be her I would be cleaning for. My Dad has that peculiar blindness to filth that most 1950's husbands have. But she just wants to see us and spend time with the boys. I would never worry that she was judging my worthiness as a woman, wife or mother because my house is dirty.

And I stopped judging my own worthiness by my ability as a housewife when I stopped feeling that I had to justify my decision to stay home. Suffice it to say, that I am not defined by my domestic status.

But the thing about cleaning is...it leads to more cleaning. And once I started, I became truly horrified about how far I had let things go.

Now, my home is still perfectly sanitary. The cat boxes are cleaned daily, the appliances, table and counters are wiped down after every meal, and though I went on strike and refused to clean the boys' bathroom any more (what? *I* don't pee on the floor...why should I clean it up?), the other two are clean enough that I wouldn't be embarassed to let a guest use them.

I swiffer up the more disgusting messes that seem to occur daily and I don't let dirty dishes accumulate. That's one of my pet peeves. My fridge doesn't have anything in it that can't be identified (another pet peeve) and the fingerprint problem is pretty much under control.

And because my house is neat, I can effect the illusion of clean without too much effort if we need to admit guests.

But ohhhhhh, the dust. The cobwebs. The sneaky, sticky grimy dirt that hides in places you don't think to clean regularly. And the curtains, the blinds, Dear God the windows.

I think blinds were a plague sent by Satan to torment housewives. So is carpeting.

If there is anything nastier than carpet, I don't know what it is. I used to steam clean our wonderfully well thought out (not by me, previous owners) white Berber regularly, but again, the sheer magnitude of the task of keeping that stupid carpet clean overwhelmed me and I gave up.

So I steam cleaned all the carpets and furniture and the water that I discarded was absolutely disgusting. And I'm sure there is still all kinds of nasty stuff lurking deep beneath that the steam cleaner didn't reach, breeding, sporing, spreading...((shudder)). If ever there was a perfect system for catching and retaining disease bearing organisms, carpet is it. Our next home will have NO carpet, anywhere.

If you have children, do not, under any circumstances, go look at the uderside of your kitchen table right now. Do not look at the chairs, particularly on the underside of the chair back where you always grasp it to pull it away from the table. Don't do it unless you have a couple hours to spend with a bucket of Lysol and a toothbrush.

Do not pull your child's bed away from the wall. Because if you do, you will find boogers cemented there. I know...you think your kid would never do something like that, but trust me, they would and they do. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to remove petrified boogers without doing serious damage to the paint and underlying drywall? It's nearly impossible. I have found that an exacto knife is somewhat helpful and truly, chiselling away at dried boogers is great for building upper arm strength.

Also, don't look at the doorknobs and the surrounding real estate in any room that your child uses regularly. Gag. Do not, I repeat, do not look under the beds. There will be things under there that defy description, and then you will be forced to crawl under there with rubber gloves, a face mask, and a salad tongs to extract them.

So anyway...I've been cleaning from morning til night for the past three days, and my offspring, surprisingly, are noticing.

After last Christmas I declared war and removed everything from the Dining room, which has served as the playroom for 11 years. I ruthlessly discarded everything that was broken, missing pieces, had too many pieces, or just pissed me off. What was left was trundled up to Diminutive One's room and for the first time since we bought the house, the Dining Room had room for actual Dining type furniture.

Unfortunately, it has stood empty for the last year because funds have been lacking and because I am picky. I don't buy cheap furniture because I intend for it to last. My sister in law has had three living room suites in the last 14 years. Three. And at least two bedroom suites.

But surprsingly, I digress.

So...I went to Big Lots yesterday (Big Lots, how do I love thee???) and bought household crap that we've been needing forever. Throw rugs, towels, bath mats, some new kitchen accessories like napkin and paper towel holders. And I bought a couple non-essential items to class up the place.

Diminutive One said to me this morning, "Wow, Mom, you've been working so hard to make the house look nice. I like all the new stuff you bought. You should buy some furniture for the dining room now."

"I'd love to babe, but it's just not a priority right now."

"I wish I could buy you a Dining Room set."

"You do?"

"Yeah. You always buy us stuff and not stuff you need. HEY! When I'm 15, I can get a job. I can buy you stuff then." Pause. "Do you think you can wait that long?"

"Yeah. But you shouldn't buy me stuff. You should buy yourself stuff while your money is still your own."

"Huh?"

"I mean, someday you'll have to pay bills and buy your kids clothes and food, and you won't be able to buy whatever you want. There's only a short period of time in everybody's life when they can be selfish with their money. You should take advantage of that."

"Oh. Hmmm. Well...if I really wanted to buy you stuff, would you let me?"

"Sure."

He went away looking satisfied. And it was kind of a bittersweet moment for me. I remember wanting to buy my Mom and Dad stuff they never could afford for themselves, and I realized that my child had reached that age of awareness. He's growing up and seeing the world through glasses that are a little less rosy. I'm proud, but sad. That carefree innocence is so very fleeting, but I guess, along with it, comes a little bit of altruism and selflessness. It touched me deeply.

And yannow? It almost makes up for the boogers on the wall.