I’ve never been known for my homemaking skills, but I think I underestimated the mess that my house really is.
I waited all day yesterday for the cleaning crew (“cleaning ladies” sounds so un-PC, doesn’t it?) who came to my house for the first time last week, but they never showed up.
I have succeeded in scaring them off after only one visit.
Simona and her two friends did look a bit horrified when they walked in last Thursday, especially when I gave them a room by room tour and told them they could just “clean around the piles.” And that’s after I spent a good hour and a half tossing other piles under beds, into drawers and under the sink. I thought it looked pretty good, but it became apparent quickly that the other homes in LaGrange that they clean must not look like mine.
They were here for nearly four hours, literally running around to do different tasks and asking me four times for another roll of paper towels. I heard murmuring upstairs, followed by some laughter, and although I didn’t understand the Russian language, I had a suspicion it had something to do with the weeks-old (months old?) Pull-Up and cloudy juice cup that they found under my daughter’s mattress. Or maybe they were talking about the ramen noodles they pulled off the arm of the chair in the TV room. Or the quick glimpse they caught of my home office, the only space I told them to not go into.
So, a week later, on the day that was supposed to be my regular day with Simona’s crew, not only didn’t get a ring at my doorbell, I didn’t even get a phone call. Nothing.
Now I’m wondering what they’ve told my friends in the neighborhood, who apparently have houses nice enough to return to for a weekly bit of spit and polish. Did they tell them I seem to be living in squalor? That they wouldn’t be surprised to find me alone and with 22 cats in a few years, surrounded by vintage Polly Pocket heads and arms?
Or am I somewhat normal, in having four busy kids, a husband and a 20-hour-a-week, work-at home job and pushing housework to the back – albeit spaghetti-sauce-covered -- burner?
Please make me feel better about the crap pile in which I am apparently living. Anyone?
I waited all day yesterday for the cleaning crew (“cleaning ladies” sounds so un-PC, doesn’t it?) who came to my house for the first time last week, but they never showed up.
I have succeeded in scaring them off after only one visit.
Simona and her two friends did look a bit horrified when they walked in last Thursday, especially when I gave them a room by room tour and told them they could just “clean around the piles.” And that’s after I spent a good hour and a half tossing other piles under beds, into drawers and under the sink. I thought it looked pretty good, but it became apparent quickly that the other homes in LaGrange that they clean must not look like mine.
They were here for nearly four hours, literally running around to do different tasks and asking me four times for another roll of paper towels. I heard murmuring upstairs, followed by some laughter, and although I didn’t understand the Russian language, I had a suspicion it had something to do with the weeks-old (months old?) Pull-Up and cloudy juice cup that they found under my daughter’s mattress. Or maybe they were talking about the ramen noodles they pulled off the arm of the chair in the TV room. Or the quick glimpse they caught of my home office, the only space I told them to not go into.
So, a week later, on the day that was supposed to be my regular day with Simona’s crew, not only didn’t get a ring at my doorbell, I didn’t even get a phone call. Nothing.
Now I’m wondering what they’ve told my friends in the neighborhood, who apparently have houses nice enough to return to for a weekly bit of spit and polish. Did they tell them I seem to be living in squalor? That they wouldn’t be surprised to find me alone and with 22 cats in a few years, surrounded by vintage Polly Pocket heads and arms?
Or am I somewhat normal, in having four busy kids, a husband and a 20-hour-a-week, work-at home job and pushing housework to the back – albeit spaghetti-sauce-covered -- burner?
Please make me feel better about the crap pile in which I am apparently living. Anyone?
2 comments:
Hey Lady - when you are a working/schooling/wife-ing/taxi-ing person, there is NO TIME for cleaning the house. Totally welcome to my life! Congrats on getting the blog up - it's coming along! WOO WOO!
Best wishes - Shawna from The GN Blog - www.gardeningnude.com
I can't make you feel better, but I hope you can make me feel better as my neck is sore from looking at your pictures! LOL!
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