House Cleaning

I turned the cleaning lady away this morning. She usually comes in the afternoon but today, she showed up bright and early at 8 am. As far as I was concerned, bright and early was too early! I was in pajamas still needing a hot shower, B was just waking still needing a hot shower, the living room was in shambles, so was the kitchen for that matter, toys were strewn everywhere and Biddy was running from one end of the house to the other. Not an ideal situation for deep cleaning. I asked her to come back at 1 pm, told her I wasn't ready for her, and copped to the fact that I still hadn't cleaned the house!

Still hadn't cleaned the house? Isn't that her job? Isn't that why we pay her?

Sounds weird? It is weird! Why clean your house to have your house cleaned? I agree it doesn't make sense yet I find the impulse to clean up and to tidy impossible to deny. I must make the house presentable–I must unload the dishwasher and make sure the sink is spotless, Biddy's toys must be neatly stored, the beds must be made. I must, I must, I must is my mantra. I'm pretty sure I learned it from my mother.

I don't remember the ritual my mom went through before the cleaning lady arrived but I surely remember her fastidious routine once the cleaning lady departed.

I use to watch her in awe the morning after, on all fours with damp sponge in hand, craning and contorting herself under the kitchen table to reach the lone cat hair fallen during the night. It was imperative she pick it up, imperative she keep the spic-and-span clean going for as long as possible–so imperative in fact, she nearly threw her back out several times with all her twisting and bending. I used to make fun of her ad nauseam. I used to call her anal (she didn't like that very much)! And now? I do the exact same thing! 

I'm my mother's daughter and I'm proud of it. I call myself anal and I too don't like it very much. That said, I AM anal so I try to embrace it. B teases me, calling me Monica from Friends fame. I not only tidy the house before but pick crumb after crumb off the floor for days afterwards. And yes–I'm down on my hands and knees.

While I'm down there perhaps I should start praying to the goddess of housekeeping. With times tight and getting tighter, I know the lazy days of having my house cleaned for me are numbered. I love my cleaning lady but buying food for the family is so much more important. Perhaps the goddess of housecleaning will come up with a solution allowing us to keep the cleaning lady, magically stock the pantry and fridge to the brim, AND keep the crumb and cat hair dust bunnies at bay between cleanings. Perhaps she can also help with the general disarray of the housing market. Perhaps...