Talk Dirty to Me

Dishes piled high and towels on the floor…a puppy frolicking in bits of paper that she just spewed all over the carpet…a vacuum standing like a lonely sentinel in the corner. Housework is boring.  It is aggravating and repetitive. I hate it.  Like death and taxes it is unavoidable.

Hire a maid you say?  No way!  Not only do I not have the money, but my dirt is personal.  I don’t want some stranger sifting through my family’s carnage.  I will take care of it in my own way and in my own time.

I try to put a positive spin on it…after all I have read the memes.  Be thankful for your sink of dishes for it means you have a family to feed.  Be thankful for the mud decorating the rugs for all pets and kids are welcome in your home.  There is truth to this and I am grateful.  I am also really sick of cleaning up. So I get neglectful sometimes.  I rebel.

I have consulted other homemakers and heard their helpful advice.  Make each member of your family responsible for anything they have moved out of place.  Only keep the bare minimum of what you need in your home so there is less to maintain.  Dedicate certain hours of the day to meet your cleaning responsibilities. Rubbish!

I have a life and so does my family. We work and we play. I treasure the times we share, laughing over movies and partaking in deep or silly discussions.  I happily indulge all appetites, cooking meals and sharing coffee.  I like to see the sun sometimes and not be a dusting mole, burrowing and straightening out my digs.  Please do not misunderstand. I am willing to clean when the mood takes me. I never let the house get past an acceptable cleanliness threshold.  I am not an advocate for filth.

I am a believer in happy living and moderation in all things.  If I want to ignore washing my floor in favor of stomping through mud puddles with my kids then that is time well spent.  No regrets.  I have witnessed immaculate houses.  They look beautiful but I often find them sterile and cold.  All that polish and shine- for what?  So guests must remove their shoes and children must sit politely and admire furnishings from afar?

Your choice.  My kids bounced on the couch and still sprawl across the living room with bowls of Doritos. I have puppies and dogs and card games and dust. I used to worry when people showed up at the door and still feel sheepish on occasion.  My house is not a showplace by any stretch of the imagination.  But it is a home, and a gathering place for friends. Our door is always open.  That has to count for something.

I will never win the title of Ms. Immaculate.  If you are coming to see me or one of my family, you are always welcome.  If you are coming to evaluate the state of my house, save yourself some time.  And (insert big sigh here) now that I have finished my rant, I suppose I should go clean the kitchen.


One thought on “Talk Dirty to Me

  1. Life was meant to be lived, not observed. Clean houses are nice for a while, but what is a house if not also a home? Seems like you’re like me. My aunt’s house is ALWAYS immaculate, but any time I go I think it looks like a furniture demo; unloved and not a home, kept for sake of visual pleasure instead of emotional engagement.

    🙂 Keep it up.


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