I have two kids, an extremely messy husband and pets...and oh yeah a physical disability. Sweeping, mopping, vacuuming cause back pain and hip dislocation. Bath tub scrubbing makes my knees swell. Dish washing hurts my ankles. You get the idea. Don't worry this is not a complain/vent. It's another post in which I attempt to cut myself some slack. Before kids I did all the necessary cleaning and then I was "done for the day". Now, I recover from cleaning the way I recover from illness...I don't.
That is a REAL picture of the actual sink/counter/kitchen full of dirty dishes I woke up to on my 28th birthday (aka first birthday after I had Riley). I'll leave the condition of the rest of house to your imagination. Yes, I woke up on that post-partum birthday and wept at the massive mess. Then I whipped out my camera and documented it like an insane person. I think I wanted proof of what I'd done all day on my birthday while tending to a 7yr old and 5mo old. Truth is I can never be sure with all the hormones and sleep deprivation why I took 20+ pictures of my trashed house. As I started trying to deal with the situation I got mad, I mean really! Today?!? So, I decided I needed professional help (Yes, probably that kind too). I called a cleaning service. It would be Mike's birthday present to me, I'd inform him of his generous birthday gift later.
That was the first time I asked for help, but not the last. Like most moms keeping the house clean is a constant source of stress. Soon after that birthday I had a major back surgery and I started paying my friend to come once a week and help me. I was essentially stationary on the couch. A stack of diapers and a drink beside me, a baby gate encircling a patch of living room floor, and Riley climbing on and off my lap. I got up to use the bathroom and make our lunch. It was some rough times. $20 for someone to come run the vacuum and clean my bathrooms was well worth it. As time passed and different surgeries and recoveries happened the person helping, rates and tasks I needed them for changed, but I had weekly help whenever we could swing it.
Since our move it went from weekly to once a month. For awhile now I've been going it completely alone sending up the bat signal on special occasions. Before you get all "cry me a river" you have to clean your own house all the time. I live with an amazing slob (I love him and he's great at many things, but being aware of the wreckage of his presence is not one of them), a fused spine, two kids, pets and unpredictable physicality. I do my best, I ask the kids for help and I try to remember how much better things are now than in the old days. I feel like I'm pretty on the ball, but I'm not a miracle worker and I can only do so much. Recently I stumbled on this post: What Normal Looks Like. Some of it was accurate, some of it didn't apply, but the spirit of it gave me a moment of relief. I forgot that it's not just me struggling.
I hate it when the house gets out of control, it is literally hard for me to get around in it. I am doing my best at any given moment to keep things pleasant and functional. Note: I did not say "to impress people." I just want to be comfortable and relaxed in my house. If my physical abilities ever caught up with my expectations of myself this place would be immaculate! Short of the nano technology my husband swears will be the end of all my orthopedic issues someday I don't really see that happening.
Imagine if cleaning didn't just exhaust and frustrate you, but actually caused you physical pain. Are you sympathizing? Good! Now with that in mind, call before you drop by so I have time to tidy up.
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