Saturday, August 20, 2011

No denying my "domestication" after this post...


Me and Saturdays have been getting along a little better lately. 



I think it's cuz I make my brother (who lives in our basement) clean the bathrooms. 

There is something so extremely motivating about having others working along with you, and nothing quite as UNmotivating as working all by yourself. 
 
I dream of the day my handsome hubby can call out "time to tidy" and all my little slaves...I mean children can all "pitch in". While we're starting a few age-appropriate chores, to help train my munchkins and hopefully make their dear mother's dream a reality one day. For right now in a household of a preschooler, a toddler and a baby, "contributing" is mostly in the form of fingerprints, spit up and the ever popular poop.

Some days being the main picker-upper can get me feeling like a prime example of Einstein's defination of insanity: doing something over and over again expecting different results. Cleaning and cleaning expecting, oh, I don't know, say a clean house? Silly me. 

I may have made a big triumph today. 


For months I have been lamenting the state of my carpets. HATE carpet. Our last house was all hard wood, and while it was lots of work, at least when it was clean it was clean. 

It was getting bad. 

My friend, equally disgusted by her carpets as of late, finally rented a cleaner (that's me chatting on my awesome pink phone with her) I had thought about hiring it out, renting a machine, but I could just tell in a few months I'd be right back where I started, trying to convince myself it was worth spending the money to do (I'm pretty cheap).



Well today I content communicated that I needed Ben to go buy me a carpet cleaner, without telling me how much it was (Once again: cheap). 

Such a good decision. 

So while Benny sat with our sickie McKye (pretty sure the three foot pukage puddle in his room helped contribute to my consumer decisivness), 
I gleefully sucked up the residues of summer (ie many a popsicle, and plenty of dirt) out of our rugs, and simultaneously the resentment from my soul! 

It was glorious. 






Happiness thy name is clean carpets.
Don't worry I didn't do it in heels...don't do anything in heels.





As I write this, I'm waiting for my kids to tire-out (if it doesn't make sense I blame the Doodle-boops!) so I can do the toy room while their in bed!!! 




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