Drowning in Domesticity.
I did not grow up in a ‘clean clean’ house, I grew up in a ‘quick visitors are coming’ house. The difference is a hygienically spotless house compared to a rushed tidiness for times of public viewing. When I was in the workforce I always had good reason for not having a spotless house, I was busy and I had other committments, besides I wasn’t home all that often; now I am home 90% of the time so I am trying but it is a long journey.
I can do tidy but clean as far as dust and grime is foreign to me, I don’t see what other people see I am sure. Mr Wrigglebot, however, notices. He sees the tiniest bit of fluff or crumb on the floor and puts it in his mouth so I feel that I have a choice between increased domestic prowess or increased foreign object removal from mouth skills. And so I try, I put things in their place, I vacuum, I stay on top of the dishes and I do really well… for a day or two and then I seem to lapse. Recently my husband has been trying to inspire me by helping out and I am appreciative I just wonder whether it will ever become second nature to me as it is for other people.
Hopefully it will and to that end I have decided to have a Tupperware Party, perhaps surrounded by all that ingenuity of domestic design just a little bit of domesticity will rub off on me and save my little baby from mouthfuls of carpet fluff.
April 15th, 2007 at 8:52 pm
I have come to believe that clean homes that also house a baby are actually the residences of magical helping elves. I to am not really clean, I wish I was, but now with a little mover and shaker, I’m really not very clean. Seconds after vaccuming Leif has some foreign object in his mouth. Argh!! Futility of futilities! And yet we must battle on, for appearances yes, but for a tiny shot at a little bit of safetly for the little monkeys.