Homegrown Thoughts

Well, it was bound to happen sometime. I know this happens to other people, but so far it hadn’t happened to me and I could be rather smug about it. But that’s all over now.

First of all, let’s just get it out in the open that I’m not a great housekeeper. I hate cleaning. I hate working on the house for hours, only to have my family members practically following in my wake, undoing my hard work. I don’t enjoy cooking either. You cook, you feed them, you turn around and they’re hungry again. A vicious cycle.

I like to have completion on the things I work on. These never-ending repetitive things make me crazy. But I do feed my family and I do try to keep the house at some level of cleanliness - if you give me an hour’s warning, I can usually get the place looking almost presentable on most days (as long as you don’t venture off the main level of the house). For the other days, I hedge my bets by refusing to answer the door unless I’ve been notified well in advance of someone’s intention to visit. Keeping things at a halfway respectable level of tidiness is a challenge for me, but I’ve done an okay job of it, at least in the last couple of years. (Having a house on the market for 6 months will do that to you.)

I guess lately I’ve gotten a little more lax than usual. There have been much more fun things to do with my time - reading email, formatting newsletters (Hi Maggie!), chatting with friends (Hi Joy!), napping, reading…you get the idea. Anyway, it is perhaps conceivable that I’ve let things slide a bit more than I should have over the last few weeks.

And the confirmation came yesterday. I am now one of those mothers who can tell this story, as so many have before me, in total honesty. As I looked around at my house from my perch in front of the computer monitor, I decided that the house had gotten a bit out of hand and that I should probably do something about it. So in a fit of housewifely guilt, I began to attack the family room with my trusty Swiffer duster, putting away dvd cases and video boxes as I dusted off the top of the entertainment center. When asked by my younger son, “Mommy, are you going to watch a video?”, I replied, “No, I’m cleaning and putting things away”. At which point my older son, as if on cue, uttered those immortal words… “Who’s coming to visit?”

Exit - stage left…