Silver Lining

As an individual who was raised in a house where there was magnet on the fridge that said, "Dust is the protective covering of fine furniture" I've always struggled to keep a clean home.

I ways wanted to have this showroom spotless house that could accommodate company at the drop of a hat and I did sort of have that.

BC.

You know? BC...Before Children

I had this stupid, romantic, dreamy-eyed, child of the 70s and 80s sitcom-stupid idea that we'd have this perfect life with perfect children and this perfect house with clean laundry and spotless toilets.

Yeah...Um...That is not the case.

If all things are going well I might get the laundry finished, folded and put away before Wednesday every week and maybe, just maybe, I'll have enough energy to get at least the first floor vacuumed and mopped.

If my in-laws are coming I'll go the extra distance and make sure that the powder room toilet is scrubbed and that there is no pee on the floor.

The house is not condemnable or disgusting but it does get pretty dusty from time to time. If I know that people are coming over I'll make a point of cleaning and even dusting but day-to-day stuff I just don't have time for.

Don't judge...It's the best I've got...for now.

When I was a teenager my mom gave up on nagging me about cleaning my bedroom, which in hindsight should have been condemned by the board of health; however, she did make us clean when company was coming. It was an all day battle when company was scheduled to visit and usually ended with me stuffing things under my bad and throwing out the stuff that smelled.

I hope to avoid that with my boys but only time will tell.

The funniest things about my teenage years was that, aside from babysitting, my primary income came from cleaning my neighbor's houses.

I do try to set a decent example and try to encourage the boys to help when I am cleaning.

Having been a Dyson Demonstrator I have many cordless vacuum cleaners that the kids love to use.

Once we've picked up all of the toys, I give one to each boy and we go around the first floor of the house "cleaning." I usually have to go over where they were but they love to help so I am trying to capitalize on their willingness. Mom may not have been the greatest example for cleaning but she certainly did not raise an idiot!

One day the boys decided to help clean and piled all of their toys into a collapsable tube that goes with a play tent.

They were adorable marching back and forth singing their "Pick Up, Clean Up" song while stuffing toys into that tube.

It was so heavy when they were finished that hubby and I couldn't even pick it up. I was so proud of their effort that I didn't unload it and put it all back for a day or so.

One of the decisions I made right after the kids were born was to make the switch from toxic chemical cleaners to non-toxic green cleaners. It is a decision that I will never regret and one that paid off in spades last week.

After scrubbing the bathtub in the boys' bathroom I accidentally left the spray bottle of cleaner on the side of the tub and promptly forgot about it.

Guess who found it?

Yep...and they were taking turns hosing down each other and all the rest of the surfaces in the bathroom. The good news is that since there is no bleach their clothes were not stained, the cleaner didn't even hurt their eyes and when I finished cleaning it up it was cleaner than it'd been in months...

Silver lining.

Flat Surface Disease

I am referring to last week as the Week of Death.

No, really...In addition to being the anniversary of my father's passing we had a friend lose his father, another friend lose her husband and a client of mine lost his wife.

The week was bookended with funerals and had a wake in the middle. It was terrible. Not as bad for me as it was for the families but just such an unhappy week all the way around.

As if the "week of death" wasn't enough to contend with, our little stuntman botched a backward dismount off the sofa and split his head open on the foot of the coffee table!

We're making him practice that dismount until he can stick it!

Ugh!

And as if taking your one year old son to the ER for stitches isn't stressful enough, I called my mom and ended up hearing, "It's not to late to put those bumper things on the coffee table."

Yeah, um...thanks!

Here's the kicker...He hit the foot of the coffee table, not the top. No one, not a single well-meaning, over-protective friend or family member has been concerned about the feet on anything...until now.

Even so, we couldn't put those bumpers on them, the kids would peel them off in about five minutes or we'd be yelling "Aah, aah, aah!" at them to leave them alone.

C'mon!

I already say "NO" enough. I just don't need to add a temptation for them or anymore stress for me!

As soon as the kids began crawling we bought a used center armoire entertainment unit so the kids couldn't play with the electronics. It works great until we open the doors to watch TV!

They are like moths to a flame!

They can be across the house and the moment the doors are open they come as fast as they can. We now have the doors open all the time and an indoor fence around the entertainment center to keep them away from it. This is the fence I was going to use to put around the Christmas tree.

Thank God for friends with slightly older children!

We borrowed another indoor fence and now have the tree enclosed in it.

The stuntman hasn't been interested in the tree since the day it went up - wait until he figures out that trees can be climbed! The engineer likes to pet the branches. We purposely hung the unbreakable stuff where they could reach it in case they tried. They haven't gone for the ornaments just like to touch the actual branches.

We cut down our own tree this year. It was a pretty Norman Rockwell-esque experience with the boys in the double-wide stroller walking thru the tree farm until we found just the right one! Hubby hit his knees and cut it down while I ran around snapping pictures from every direction. I had hubby stand next to the stroller with the tree while I took pictures and the children looked at him like, "Why the heck is dad holding that big green thing?!" (They don't really know what trees are yet.)

It was all fun and games until it was time to head back and pay for the tree...hubby had to drag the thing all the way back. It was quite a distance. Of course, the tree we found was about as far from the car as we could get...hubby is very picky when it comes to the Christmas tree.

We really do have a beautiful tree - minus the fence of course.

Neither one of us is a "ball" person.

What I mean by this is that we don't use ball ornaments to decorate the tree. We have themes for our ornaments: fishing and sailing (hubby), cows and angels (me) and baby's first Christmas - from last year. At roughly six weeks old they had no idea that there was anything more than feeding and sleep  but we have the ornaments to prove it!

Hubby usually leaves decorating the tree up to me - he's picky about the tree, I'm picky about the lights and ornaments. This year that was not the case. As with many tasks these days, we knocked it out in two hours because the boys were napping. There just wasn't time to be picky!

What one can accomplish in that two-hour timeframe is nothing short of amazing.

This was the case on Thanksgiving.

While I cooked hubby cleaned the entire house, including bathrooms, in two hours!

Although we have our usual chores hubby does trash, car washing, lawn mowing, guys things etc. and I do most household things like laundry and cooking, the cleaning usually falls into the "whoever has the time" category.

I am not OCD about the way things are cleaned. I just care that they are clean. I don't keep a spotless household - my kids have great immune systems - but it's neat and somewhat tidy.

I used to get all freaked out by the idea of my parents coming to visit and would spend days and days cleaning. I don't know why. Growing up we had a magnet on the refrigerator that said, "Dust: The protective covering of fine furniture!"

Needless to say, my mom is not a neat freak. Things are clean but she suffers from "Flat Surface Disease" and an unfortunate affinity for catalogs.

If there is a flat surface in her house, you will find a pile of catalogs, some of which are years old.

It seems I inherited the FSD gene and have to stay ever vigilant to keep things from piling up. The worst part is that the hubby has FSD too. Right now treatment comes in the form of the "office." We try to keep the piles contained and once a quarter I go in and file everything that needs to be and discard the rest.

In the meantime, we keep the door closed.

We call it the "office" because it has office furniture and the printers in it but it's really become the catch-all for things we're not sure what to do with but know that they don't go in the basement - a name that is really too long so "office" it is.

Sometimes, I wish that my parents had been a little more strict when it came to keeping a tidier house but then I think that in the end it really doesn't matter. No one really cares unless it's really disgusting to the point of being life-threatening and I know that having my parents at sporting events and concerts was much more important than whether or not the dining room had been dusted!