Yesterday William decided that he and I could get the house clean in time for the Stupor Bowl. My old methods of self motivation may be waning, but I must say my children have a powerful effect on me. How can I deny them hope? How can I face their enthusiasm and meet it with doubt, denial or refusal? I cannot. We cleaned. He cleared the kitchen counter. Together we banished lingering remnants of Christmas. We filled two shopping bags with items to donate. We took four bags of recycling to the big blue barrel outside the garage. I also answered several phone calls, took lunches to Max and Alex, and kept Maria safe, happy, nursed, changed, and cuddled. There was also the trip to the barber. (How can two haircuts take 1 hour and 40 minutes? No matter. We like Daniel, and the boys look so handsome.) Technically the house did get cleaner. Are we ready for company? No. If you rang my doorbell, I would instinctively duck, hush the children and pretend to not be home. Sad, yet true. But I am still cleaning (tricked you... I'm actually writing... but I will get back to it... honest.) I have my music playing. Gwen Stefani, Regina Spektor, Shakira, Julieta Venegas and Nelly Furtado are my cleaning homegirls. We're getting down with our bad selves.
So, what gets you going? Do you like the feel of pressed sheets and the fragrance of Pine Sol? Do you clean because you fear what the neighbors would say if you let things go? Are you inspired by flowers, or is it like breathing for you? I remember Grandmother telling me she likes washing dishes, because she enjoys the sound of running water. Sometimes I like washing dishes, because I like to think of Grandmother enjoying the running water.
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