There is a difference between tidying and cleaning.
Perhaps you already knew this. Probably I did too, and have just been deluding myself for most of my adult life. I always sort thought - nay - prided myself - that I was someone who liked cleaning, and who kept a clean house.
To my chagrin, I discovered today I do not keep a clean house. I have a tidy house. Tidy is fluffing pillows and picking up David's toys and tossing laundry in the machine. Doing dishes, and when I'm feeling really ambitious, passing a dust cloth over the most obviously dusty pieces of furniture. But see, that's where I was tricked. 30 second dusting jobs are NOT cleaning. Tidying I like. Cleaning I do not.
The grandmother is coming this weekend to see her baby. Today meant extensive dusting, mopping, sweeping, and scrubbing. (Who knew those spots on my kitchen floor could disappear? I thought we just had old linoleum.) The kitchen sink is actually white again. The dust bunnies have been removed from all corners. The rugs are vacuumed. (Again, I just thought they were old...) Heck, I even scooped dead June bugs from my windowsills. All for my mother. Nay, for the Grandmother. For Oma.
I'd like to believe my house was filthy because I have an 11-week old who is sucking up all my attention. (She can grab the butterfly on her play gym and suck her thumb. I am so proud!) But it's not true. I'm just... lazy. I like faking it. Sure, now the house looks great, and I am extremely pleased. Cleaning is delayed gratification. And tidying is all about immediate gratification. Sure, real cleaning = bigger payoff. But tidying is an easy high. And if I keep the lights low, no one knows the difference. Right?
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1 comment:
Britt, can I copy and paste your blogs to my site. I'm horrible at keeping up with them and you say EXACTLY what I need to say! I figure if I have author's consent, it's not plagiarism. But I'm not going to say I didn't write it.
So, ditto on the tidying vs. cleaning. Ditto on the piddle out the legs vs. the poop up the back.
Sadly, no, pathetically, I only vacuumed before my parents came. My mom helped with laundry and cooked for me all week (I am currently eating yummy leftovers) and my dad pulled a few ridiculously sized weeds and scrubbed my kitchen and bathroom floors, fixed a leaking toilet (along with an imaginary friend), hung a ceiling fan that's been on the to do list for a year, and switched out a light socket in a closet.
Now, the MIL is a completely different story. I have two clutter areas that need to be GONE. Both for my sanity and because she is coming...
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