I hate it. All of it. Housework is hands-down the worst thing in my world. I’d rather change poopy diapers, no lie! I’m writing this blog now to avoid doing the housework I need to do…
A few years back, my brother suggested to me that I schedule one room or area of the house to work on each day of the week. I dismissed it at the time, thinking of a million reasons why it wouldn’t work. Now, I’ve tried so very many different things that I thought I might as well give this a try. So I made my schedule:
Monday went great. I got the entire living room and hall clean. Floors, walls, windows, everything! It felt awesome, and looked even better.
Then Tuesday rolled around. I had high hopes for my kitchen. It’s been far too long since I cleaned more than the surface things. It started out well enough. I scrubbed my stove, took probably an hour total. It was bad. I did the top, pulled off the knobs and cleaned the front, did the side where it doesn’t quite touch the counter so stuff always spills, the wall beside it, everything. It sparkled! Then I was tired. I took a long break before the next task. (By “took a long break”, I mean that I didn’t do anything else in the kitchen. Besides cook. And dishes. And feeding my kids. I also did laundry. And changed diapers. And any number of other daily things.) Finally, I got the vacuum and did the floor really well. Edges, cobwebs around the ceiling, window sills, etc. Then I scrubbed the floor. I don’t have a mop. A traditional type mop and bucket would attract toddlers like fleas to a dog. So no, thank you. I used to have a swiffer type mop, which I love; but it broke. So I do my floors on my knees with spray and a rag. I don’t mind, usually; but like I said, it’s been a long time since I really cleaned my kitchen. Three rags and 30 minutes later, I was done. Needless to say, I didn’t do anything else in that room yesterday. It doesn’t help that my baby has been extra clingy and fussy from his molars coming in. I had planned on wiping out the fridge, or at least the front of it. And the windows. And the walls. And the high chairs. Maybe I just set the bar too high? I tried to not get discouraged, telling myself it’ll be easier in a week or two, since I haven’t deep cleaned in so long.
Then today rolled around. Bedrooms. I really thought this would be an easy day. Clean up the babies’ toys, vacuum, wipe down the walls and windows, then pick up stuff from my floor and do the same. The older girls can do their own rooms. Sounds simple enough, right? Except that the toys were everywhere. I hate them to just be thrown in the boxes, so I started organizing. But of course, the 2 year old found her babies and wanted help diapering them. And the 1 year old watched me put most of the kitchen play things in the box and then decided to dump it all out. Plus the normal things still have to be done… laundry, diapers, cooking, bath after lunch since we had beans, my shower (that I literally get maybe 2 of, per week), and combating the general fussiness of the baby again and quelling the inevitable fights between the little ones. Oh, and the older girls are all excited about some new Minecraft update, so they’ve been wanting to explore it all day. How can I say no to their excitement? Now, Natalie (the two year old) is actually napping, but that means no cleaning of the toys right now. And I already picked up the few things off my floor. So I’m writing this blog. (And getting hit in the head with a toy bucket, by the way.)
Cue the feelings of failure. It’s 1:36 pm and I’ve barely done anything it seems. I’m already second-guessing this plan and I’m only halfway through the week. I really have to get the bedrooms vacuumed today. The living room actually needs vacuuming again, too. (Toddlers, remember?) I just am questioning whether a schedule of any kind is going to work in my life. I suppose it’s worth a try. It might be a little better than the chaos that was my housework before. So why not?
I think that every time I try to really get on top of keeping things clean, I just end up dreaming of not having a house in a city to take care of. I want a tiny cabin in the woods. Dirt floor? Bring it on! I’ll spend the warmer days outside, picking vegetables and enjoying nature. I’ll spend the colder months knitting or reading by the fire…
But alas, I live in this house now. It must be clean. I must do the things I so despise. Sometimes, I really hate being a grown up.