It’s “Rest Time.” At our house, that generally means the children skip off gaily to their rooms so I can “rest” (or clean the kitchen and pin things on Pinterest I really have every intention of trying but never get around to, like exercise).
Anyhow, it’s official. Our house is on the market. I have a hard time articulating not just the stunning fact of it after nearly having a break down the last time we sold our house, but it’s only been two hours and so far I’m feeling okay about it. I’m okay until I think of moving away from our neighbors and the appalling necessity of keeping the house clean when some of my children do nothing but move from room to room, leaving a national disaster area behind them in each room.
I was banking on my neighbor’s cleaning lady’s applying herself to the scum on my cupboards, but she got a different job and (gasp!) wasn’t swayed by my invitation, as appealing as it must have been. So I called a chain cleaner, begged for clean cupboards, and welcomed two smiling women who showed up at my door this morning with buckets full of supplies. I reiterated my priorities: cupboard, cupboards, cupboards, the rest of the kitchen, and the bathrooms (in that order). We did school (that’s my real job, right?) and I tried not to cringe thinking of these two young women scrubbing my mess. Two hours later, they were “done” and the cupboard above my stove was still disgustingly sticky and crusted with dust and grease (don’t judge me, please). The front of the microwave was clean, but the whole underside was still utterly disgusting (remember, you said you weren’t going to judge me). I pointed the greasy cupboards out to them, and they worked another 15 minutes before I let them leave. They hung around a bit, probably waiting for a tip, but I couldn’t bring myself to tip them when they really had done a poor job.
So anyway, here I am at rest time, writing you and smelling the burning off of all noxious waste inside my oven. SweetP has been down twice to ask for “very sticky tape” so she can make Julie an umbrella. I am a little afraid to see where else the very sticky tape will end up, but tape is one of the great babysitters in the western world. It’s right up there with teenage neighbors and shaving cream, so I’m going to take a nap and deal with it later.