You Might Be a Mother If…

Browsing around for something to write about, I became distracted by some spots on my screen. They didn’t wipe away easily so I did what any good mother would do. I put a little spit on that fancy electronic cleaning wipe and scrubbed them off.

3 Steps to Good Housekeeping

This is the April edition of the print version of After the Bubbly, an award winning family humor column. If you’d like to see it in a local publication, let me know and I’ll do my best to get it there!

My name is Lela and I have a housekeeper. Don’t judge me. I’ve done enough of that myself. I’ve also tried to handle the housework myself—even enlisted the kids in a weekly ritual to rid our home of the odor of dog and used Kleenex. The routine consisted of making a list of chores, cranking up the Jonas Brothers, and setting a timer for an hour. It was ugly, but at the end the house was clean—not white glove clean, but good enough. I followed up throughout the week nagging the children to pick up their things until I ran out of saliva. This system worked for a while, but the kids complained and I got tired of yelling. We slacked off until I was once again afraid I’d pick up a Staph infection from my own bathroom. I knew I needed help.

Step 1: Admit that you are powerless over your poor housekeeping.

It’s like a disease, this inability to scrub grout and polish porcelain. So why do I feel so guilty about outsourcing? I’m only trying to set a good example. None of us is Superwoman. The grime coating my best wedding gift vase was so thick I’d forgotten its original color; dust bunnies had morphed into a pack of vicious jackrabbits under my sofas; and there were leftovers in the fridge from the Bush Administration. Clearly, I was not in control.

Step 2: Realize that the solution lies in a power greater than yourself (ie. a housekeeper).

I called the woman who used to clean our house back when I had one big paycheck instead of the handful of small ones I now receive. She was available. And she’s great—with baseboards, stainless, and my fingerprinty glass-topped desk. I justified the luxury by telling myself that now the kids and I will have time to work on the deep detail cleaning and organizing. We’ll thwart the landfill-o-crap that threatens to overtake their bedrooms. Mmm-hmmm. That’s exactly what we’ll do with the time. We won’t sit around eating Sour Patch Kids and Raisinettes and watching American Idol. No way.

Step 3: Commence with the cleaning.

Naturally, I had to clean up the house before the housekeeper’s first visit. I won’t be judged for hair-clogged drains and fuzzy ceiling fans. More important, I don’t want her thinking we’re trouble like those slobs across the street. I can’t afford a rate hike (or the stress of negotiations). Her first day back I held back a giggle as she worked and let out a hearty “YES” when I saw the tidy of rags next to the washer after she’d gone. I floated through the house on a lavender and Pledge scented cloud. Goodbye tiny hairs and pet dander. Hello shiny wood floor.

Judge me if you must, but not until you have walked a mile through the devastation that was my home before I got help—and the housekeeper.

Lela Davidson’s award winning essays appear in magazines throughout the country. She is the parenting columnist on HubPages.com and a regular contributor to ParentingSquad.com. As long as she gets paid to write, she’s keeping the housekeeper. Find out more on her wildly entertaining blog, www.afterthebubbly.com.

Confessions of a Dirty Housewife

A couple of years ago I started enlisting the kids in a weekly ritual I like to call The Hour in Which My House No Longer Smells Like Dog and Used Kleenex. I followed up throughout the week with nag-the-children-to-pick-up-their-things-until-mommy’s-saliva-dries-up. But somehow it’s not working. Somehow I am still slightly fearful that I’ll pick up a staff infection from my own bathroom.

I feel guilty. But not because my house is a hot mess. I feel guilty for feeling like I should be able to do it all and not getting help. Because really – when there’s a quarter inch coat of dust that actually changes the color of that lovely glass vase you got for your wedding – when the dust bunnies have turned into a pack of vicious jack rabbits – when there’s stuff in the fridge that you can’t identify – when it’s that bad – you need help.

So a couple of weeks ago I finally broke down and called the woman who used to clean our house. And wouldn’t you know that poor dear was out of work? Providing a regular gig was the least I could do. Besides, now the kids and I can work on the deep detail cleaning more often so as to thwart the landfill-o-crap that threatens to overtake their bedrooms.

As I waltzed through the house on a lavender and Pledge scented cloud of happiness, I felt better. Not just because all the tiny hairs had been whisked away, but because I had a hand in the financial recovery of our nation.

Stimulate the economy: hire a housekeeper.

Can’t enough of my wit? See these gems:

Treat Your Husband This Valentine’s Day: Morph Into a 1950s Housewife
Cleaning the Children’s Suite – It’s No Earth Day Up There

Should you desire to clean your own house, check out tips and tricks over on Parent Bloggers Network.

Spring Cleaning the Children’s Suite – It’s No Earth Day Up There

My kids have the entire upstairs of our house to themselves. Two bedrooms, and adjoining bathroom, and a bonus room big enough to store all their toys, craft supplies, video games, fish, and apparently a landfill’s worth of garbage. Yes, four bags to be precise. And that last bag – the chock full bursting at the seams bag? That’s the one I filled after the kids both assured me that there was NO garbage, at all, none, zero, zip, left up there. I knew better.

I don’t know why my children – the same children who throw a fit if they see me toss anything remotely recyclable into the trash, the same children who recently pressed my husband to call for his company to use only recycled plastics, the same children who won’t let me leave the water running for more than 6 seconds at a shot – create so much trash.

And I know, yeah, yeah it’s my fault. But really it’s not because I don’t buy them all the crap that ends up clogging their rooms so that one whole half of my house looks like the opening scene of Wall-E. Between the school treasure boxes, the award certificates they get for merely showing up and breathing at practically anything, competing grandparents, and their friends’ ever increasingly generous birthday goodie bags – we’ve got a load of mess up there! Happy Earth Day!

Among the typical empty candy wrappers, spit laden gobstoppers, wadded up tissue, inkless pens, and toys that don’t work, I found unidentified underwear, fishnet stockings for the Whore Barbie, and a pee-scented sleeping bag wadded into a closet.

Spring cleaning: magical.

Are We Done Living Green Yet?

Is it just me or are the rest of you about over this whole ‘green living’ thing? I mean really. How natural are we supposed to be? It’s just a lot of stress is all.

That said, the one change I’ve been trying to make (not too successfully I don’t mind adding) is in the area of cleaning products. And not even so much to be green, I just think it’s sort of ridiculous that we have to buy all this special stuff to clean our homes. Is the dirt today that different than the dirt a hundred years ago when all they had was a jug of vinegar, some baking soda, and a whole lotta elbow grease?

Ranting aside, I have as yet been unable to make all my own cleaning products. (I told you I was over it!) So the next best thing is natural store bought stuff. I swear by Mrs. Meyers.

This week Parent Bloggers is helping SC Johnson get the word out about Nature’s Source cleaners, which is another off-the-shelf cleaner with natural ingredients. No matter what you choose, I think it’s a wonderful thing that we’re getting better ingredients in everything we buy.

Because let’s face it, we’re going to buy most of it. Unless you’re homesteading out on a farm somewhere, life is just too busy to be making your own furniture wax and baking cookies from scratch. Honestly!

Now gardening…. that’s something I’d like to try.

How to Make a Ghetto Swiffer

Clean Your Carpets

After more than four years in this house, I figured it was time to clean the carpets. For some reason, I planned it for a day smack dab in the high point of preparing for the monster fundraiser, Touch-a-Truck, and the rain storm of the century. I had no control over the latter, but I should have known better about the former. However, there is really no good time to clean the carpets. That’s why it’s been four years.

Here’s what I learned:

• My guest room really was ’sort of orgnized’ in a messy way.
• Furniture is heavy, so
• Preparing for carpet cleaning counts as a workout.
• My son likes to collect paper.
• We still have Polly Pockets shoes hiding in the corners.
• Two vacuums is not enough.
• My kids view Erector Set nuts as vacuumming challenges.
  (Quote: If it’s not for picking stuff up, then what’s it for!)
• The under-bed storage area is full – everywhere.
• The Salvation Army is my friend.

I swear I saw my dog snicker when I made the appointment.
It’s raining lady, I imagine him thinking, and these paws were made for digging.
Oh well, maybe next week we’ll do the windows.

Where Are Your Socks?

The other day my daughter was searching through the dryer for socks and couldn’t find a match for the one she wanted. “I’ll look in the Sock Finder,” she said. Apparently that’s what she’s dubbed the little plastic box where I keep lonely socks until I finally have the stomach to toss them out. (Because the day after you do, some sweet faced child shows up with the match that he found in the Lego box.)

I know a lot of people have a place for single socks, but I didn’t realize some people actually abandon the whole matching process altogether, opting instead for a big ole basket-o-socks. I’m not sure my laundry room is large enough for that. Is it that hard to match socks? Maybe other families have more socks than we do.

What’s your sock issue?

Good News For Drunken Housewives

In my quest to find the perfect way to clean granite counter tops, I bring you: Vodka! I’ve been trying to incorporate green cleaning into my routine. First I read that rubbing alcohol worked well on granite because it was the right PH or for some other scientific reason. Sounded good to me. Then I read that rubbing alcohol was actually made from solvents. And apparently solvents = BAD. But, the good news was that vodka would do the trick. And it’s all natural. I can vouch for that. I can also attest to the cleaning ability of Smirnoff. I mixed 1 part vodka with 3 parts water in a spray bottle. Cuts the grease like crazy! Cheers!

Time to Clean the Playroom!