Rambles in a Messy House
I'm completely out of the habit of blogging. It doesn't help that I am busy, busier than I anticipated being at this season of life. I've also started to feel like I have nothing meaningful to say. I'm not attracted to commentary about social whatzits and whoosits very often, and tend to steer clear of controversy - at least for controversy's sake. Sometimes I do want to hop up on my soapbox and rant. Still, the blogging helps my fingers stay in shape on the keyboard, so here I am typing up a stream of consciousness while I listen for the kids in the other room. Finger exercises are a worthy cause. Just like whole-body exercises are.
I was somewhat amused yesterday to discover that my fitbit had decided to register my 'aerobic exercise' session. Complete with little reminder to me that I had forgotten to start recording. No, not really. That wasn't a planned exercise time, it was helping my daughter move furniture out of, into, and around her bedroom. See, with the Ginja Ninja moving out, the Jr. Mad Scientist has her very own room for the first time in her life. She and I took her sister's bed out, moved her bed, put a big desk in (I had not fully processed how big the desk we found at a yard sale was, until it was in the room!), and have space for a comfy armchair, yet to be acquired. She's ecstatic over all the space she has to create in, now. The sewing machine she got for Christmas will go on the desk, and her dragon collection was filling up the top of it nicely last time I saw.
It's funny how things change, and how they stay the same. The GN has only been moved out a few nights, but last night was family dinner, plus laundry. There's no laundry facilities in the little house, so she will be coming here often, I suspect, to get her things clean. And after dinner the kids, all four of them because the GN's sweetie is visiting from TX, played a game while I cleaned up. It felt very normal and domestic and strange all at the same time. I'm not the most domestic woman, in spite of having spent a great deal of my adult life barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen. I love to cook, cleaning, not so much. Although this morning it's very satisfying to wake up to a blank slate.
I've struggled with that, over the years. I have also learned as I got older that I am not alone in this. Housekeeping has never come naturally or easily to me. It wasn't a priority in the house when I was growing up, and it is something I can overlook, for a while, distracted by other, more exciting tasks. Until it reaches a certain point and I make the long death march of cleaning All the Things until I am exhausted and the house is neat... then I get pulled in other directions until I do it all over again. It's not a pretty cycle. We've been talking about hiring someone to come in a couple of hours a week and helping. I think that's probably a good idea. I hate to face the necessity - I should be able to care for my own house, darnit! - but the reality is I get overwhelmed, and then I get sick, and prioritizing those hours to have with my family rather than frantically cleaning is a much happier, healthier thing.
Although the Little Man has been stepping up with chores, which we have deeply appreciated. We don't want him doing too much, either. The Jr. Mad Scientist would be working 40 hours a week if she could, so she's not here as much as she'd like to be to help. She's not, but I suspect once she hits her 18th birthday I won't be able to hold her back any longer. Kid likes to work. More than she likes school, for sure. But that's a different post for a different day. I've got to get up and go to work.
But my fingers are warmed up!