Although I'm one of the first to admit I'm a less-than-amazing housekeeper, I still get a wee bit defensive about it.
I mean, my house is pretty clean, but it's not totally sterilized every day. I am absolutely horrible at keeping the master bathroom clean because Kev and I are the only ones who use it and it's easy to hide. But I get the kids' bathroom cleaned often when they're bathing, and I have a dishwasher so my kitchen doesn't smell (usually). And, as Amanda knows, every Friday I change all the linens in the house and gleefully call it FRESH LINEN FRIDAY.
Now this change of topic is going to seem crazy, but stay with me. It illustrates a point.
Last Thursday the kids came inside at bedtime and I asked Lincoln to wash his hands with me. He proceeded to have a total meltdown for the next hour or so... He wouldn't calm down for anything. Even when I gave up on actually getting him washed and ready for bed, he kept screaming. He stopped when I got some books out to read, but when he tried to turn on the table lamp in his room he tripped and fell and it was the end of the world all over again. And then I had the audacity to change his diaper since he was on the floor anyway and it needed to be done. I sat on the floor of his room for about ten minutes while he hid behind his chair and screamed his guts out after that diaper change. I gave him his blanket hoping he might just pass out on the floor with it after screaming for so long, but no such luck.
Eventually I picked him up and held him in my lap and started reading to him over the screaming. He finally stopped, but he wouldn't let me take his shoes off or change his clothes. But I know when to pick my battles so I just swaddled him up fully-dressed and bid him good night. He fell asleep in about ten seconds (STILL NURSING OF COURSE) and I felt I'd won the war.
Friday morning I got the kids up and ready bright and early; Aspen was going to morning kindergarten with a neighbor while I took Linc to work with me. When Linc got up he was so excited that he was already dressed. He wouldn't let me change his clothes or his diaper or touch him with a washcloth or toothbrush. FINE WHATEVER! I couldn't be bothered to get into a fight with him since I needed to get Aspen to my friend's home on time for her to take Aspen to school for me.
It wasn't until we got home from work a couple of hours later that Linc conceded to a diaper change. I cringe to think of how long he wore that nighttime diaper but I'm just trying to survive here, y'know? At least he wore clothes to work instead of pajamas, even if he did sleep in those clothes so they were technically pajamas... (and then he wore those clothes for a second full day...).
My point? Well, my point is that when Kev was cleaning out master bathroom Friday night while I bathed Linc, he called me in to show me something. I immediately knew he was going to point out something he did that I don't do and I was like OH MY GOSH I CAN'T EVEN CHANGE OUR SON'S CLOTHES/DIAPERS WHY DO YOU THINK I'M GOING TO THOROUGHLY CLEAN A BATHROOOOOOM?!
He tried to reason with me that it only takes a little bit of extra time to clean this certain way and I laughed at him. I'm not about to waste Linc's precious nap time taking extra minutes to scrub the toilet. I am going to take a lightning fast shower, shove food in my face, work, exercise, and mayyyybe veg with a show or a book for a few minutes before my time is up. If I do get around to the commode, Imma just squirt some cleanser in, swish it around and call it good. We both know Kev is more thorough at cleaning things than I am and we should just keep it that way. I like knowing where I stand, even if I don't like being called out on it.
I think a fair compromise would be having Kev continue to do an amazing job scrubbing the toilets from now on, and I'll just try to keep our kids alive (and maybe clean).
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