I suppose I try to keep myself busy with things I like to do that are also of a good nature so that I can claim I have no time to clean. Cleaning seems so trivial compared to making hats for tiny babies, doesn't it? Well, doesn't it? Cleaning is what I do in my "spare" time, and as I rarely have any of that...well, you get the picture. This has worked for me so far, in that I really don't have to clean much. It's one weak point, however, is that when one doesn't clean often, one has to clean a great deal when one does clean. Case in point, my bedroom. I don't know how Ron sleeps in it, blissfully unaware of all the clutter that to me seems to be ever encroaching on my floorspace. I literally lie awake at night from time to time, contemplating the crap we seem to surround ourselves with, wondering how I let it get this bad, and wondering more how on earth I'm going to get it "un-bad". I mean, this is worse than bad or wrong. It's reached the level of badong.
Why waste time blogging then? Well, unlike some people, I happen to think that blogging keeps you honest, if you let it. If I talk about how pathetically unclean and cluttered my apartment is, publicly, and holding no punches, not glossing over any of my dirty secrets when it comes to the pile in the corner that's taller than I am or the abundance of laundry (clean or dirty, I can't tell) in front of Ron's dresser, then maybe, just maybe, I'll shame myself into actually cleaning it. Yes, that's right. My theory is that if I waste enough time blogging about my dirty apartment, I may actually find enough time to clean the blasted place.
First task: the dreaded corner. *gasp!* It is, literally, as tall as as I am in places. There are 3 large storage bins of Christmas decorations. Why are they in my bedroom? Because there's no where else to put them at the moment. This apartment is great for what it is but I wouldn't recommend living in an apartment with 4 kids. Even though we have decent closets in the bedrooms and even one in the vestibule, there is no real storage space. We have things under every bed( and crib) in the place, boxes upon boxes up against the walls, luggage underneath living room chairs, chairs shoved under the mantle, and Christmas wreaths still hanging on our front door (albeit on the inside) because they are the only places we have to put them. My mission in cleaning the bedroom is to get as much of the storage stuff out of here (or at least out of sight) as possible and to give Ron and I a place that is neat, clean, and most of all, livable. To accomplish this, we need to be able to see all floor that is not covered with a piece of furniture. To that end, tomorrow I begin moving boxes out of here and into the nursery (which is also the only room where we can actually store things, as the baby doesn't need that much space).
What really sucks is that, while today is the perfect opportunity to clean, as Ron has Rimmy and Seton out for the afternoon, and Ransom and Hester are actually sleeping (probably because the older 2 aren't here), I simply refuse to do actual work of the kind that needs to be done in my bedroom as it's Sunday. I do have some standards. Unfortunately, those standards doom me to a week of constantly getting the cleaning half done and having to stop to change a diaper, nurse a baby, cook a meal, break up a fight, serve as a judge, etc. This leaves me, usually, with a bed covered in laundry or general "stuff" which I was attempting to organize but which must simply be swept aside at bed time to be dealt with all over again in the morning. I feel like I'm constantly getting 1 step forward during the day, only to end up 2 steps behind at night. (Again, this is a side-effect of living in a 3 bedroom apartment with 6 people and no dining room. A dining room would solve many of problems, mainly because of the table it would hold, but I digress.)
And there's Ransom, awake at last. I'll update during the week sometime with my progress. Here's hoping I actually have some progress to report.
No comments:
Post a Comment