How Do You Do It?

First off it should be noted that Leah has decided that sleeping through the night is no longer her thing. And is waking up in the middle of the night for a bottle. Three straight nights now. This is causing havoc for Scott and I because we got so used to sound sleeping and so out of our rotation routine that now when she wakes up neither of us wants to go. We do this thing where I'll nudge him and say "your turn" and he'll be all, "no, I did it last time" and I'll be like, "you can't count the 6 am feeding" and he'll be all "why not" and eventually I'll call him an asshole and go make a bottle.

So, that said, I am tired again, but today I have a very full day planned. Starting with picking up my car, which has been in and out of the shop for about a a week now. So, while I am getting ready Scott goes and gets my car. Awesome! I had been driving a free rental. It was a Toyota Yarvis. If I had to describe this car in three words they would be small, tiny and miniscule. I honestly don't even know how Scott drove it. I was practically bumping my head on the ceiling and I ring in it a whopping 5'4". I am so happy to be back in my car. So happy.

I get to work and I have been beyond busy here. Basically,a whole lotta stuff got messed up and they want me to fix it. Which works out well for me because then I get to play the hero. Anyway I put in my eight hours, but by hour six, I am giddy with excitement to go home.

See, tonight, I have arranged for my Mom and Dad to watch Ty and Leah, while Scott takes Joey to the pool, park, dinner and grocery store. I have 3 hrs slated to be home, alone, cleaning. I know what you are thinking – who loves to clean? Why would this be something to be giddy about? Well, for me, getting any time alone is a huge blessing, and what I do with that time really is irrelevant, but for some reason the idea of cleaning my house sound so good. I am psyched.

So, I get home, pack the kids, say my goodbyes, and start scrubbing. First order of business, the mounds of stuff at the top of the stairs that needs to go down to storage. I take 1,2,3,4 trips up and down the stairs. I decide to just leave that stuff at the bottom and get to organizing the laundry room later.

Next, clean the baseboards. the doors, light switch, and outlet covers with soapy water. I fill the bucket and get started. This takes about 40 minutes alone, but it is so nice to have them clean. As I look at my finished product, I puff my chest out with pride over a job well done.

Next, pick up all things from the floors and vacuum. This takes me a while too. But I get the all toys and random items put away and organized. The kids rooms are put together and straightened. Out comes the big vacuum then the small hand held to get under the couches and the beds. Again, I am proud, but becoming too weary to puff out chest and bang ape style.

Next Murphy's Oil all the floors. We have all wood floors and I prefer to scrub on my hands and knees, I just think it's the only way they really get clean so, I fill the bucket and get started. I'm through only a quarter of the total area and am starting to fade. My enthusiasm from earlier is waning as I look around and see that even upon completion of the floors, I am no where near done. I still have the stairs to vacuum and all the stuff at the bottom of the basement stairs that needs to go to storage, and the bathrooms, I haven't change the sheets or washed the windows. I am beginning to feel defeated and depressed. I only have 45 minutes left and there is no way I will finish.

With tears burning in my eyes, I slave away at the floors, moving the furniture as I go. I am thinking, how am I expected to keep this house clean, I just can't do it, can't keep up. My whole life is a charade. How do you do it, you ask, well apparently I don't, I can't. I am just not able.

Then it dawns on me. Having a perfect, spotless house is not the only measure of success when it comes to being respectable parent or adult. It can't be. Because I have three amazing kids, a great job, a happy marriage, wonderful family a decently maintained yard. I have friends that care about me, money in the bank. I must be doing something right, right? The fact that my windows are not streak free is not what defines me as a person. And I won't let it be.

I finished the floors, folded some laundry, put it away. As I finished straightening the kitchen, Scott got home with the kids. I can tell he is not impressed. Honestly, who notices clean baseboards and light switches? I explain to Scott how long it took waiting for his praise and validation, but in the end all I get is "well, it smells better in here" I guess I'll take it.