My Beef with Household Chores

I found myself thinking a lot about household chores today. Mostly I was dreading them as I always do. I have never been a fan of cleaning ever since I was little, but because my mom always used to make me clean regularly, I now force myself to keep things at least somewhat tidy. If I don’t, then I start to feel depressed.

Because I am expecting a few people over to my house this weekend, I need to do a good cleaning. (To me a good cleaning for when guests are coming is a very thorough, almost obsessive, cleaning.) So today I started making a list of all the things that I have to clean. The longer the list became, the more annoyed I felt. I love for my house to be clean, but now that I have Andrew, I don’t have as much energy to clean. He may only be a baby who can only roll from his stomach to his back, but he still drains the energy out of me. Take last night for example, he was awake more than he was asleep which meant so was I.

Then there is the issue with the chemical smell of cleaners I use. For cleaning bathrooms and the kitchen, I like to use the tough stuff. Unfortunately, the tough stuff is also the strong smelling stuff. For most of my cleaning, I have Andrew in his chair, and just put it in whatever room I am cleaning. I don’t want to do that in the kitchen or bathrooms though. If that smell is almost unbearable for me, then I can’t even imagine how bad it is for him. To keep him safe I put him in a different room for a while, but he hates that. He wants to be part of the group at all times. If he isn’t, then hes mad and not afraid to let you know it.

Often times, I have to clean when he is taking a nap. (This is why I can’t sleep when the baby sleeps.) His naps can be anywhere from ten minutes to two hours. That makes cleaning a race against the clock. I for some reason cannot leave something half cleaned. It doesn’t matter if it’s a toilet, or the fridge. So if I were to start cleaning something, and Andrew woke up and started crying, I would still have to finish cleaning whatever it was before getting him.

Then there are the chores that I hated doing even before Andrew. The one chore I can’t stand at all is cleaning the tops of the ceiling fans. I don’t like stepladders and I don’t like dust hitting me in the face. I lucked out though that my house doesn’t have ceiling fans. (Hooray for little victories!) I also have never been found of cleaning the fridge. Although I don’t know who does like going through the Tupperwares of leftovers that have been pushed to the back of the fridge just to find that the food inside has gotten so moldy that it’s impossible to recognize what food was originally inside.

With every time I force myself to clean the house, I can feel a little bit of my sanity disappearing. By the time Andrew is old enough to help me clean house, odds are I am going to be completely insane. That doesn’t mean that I will give up on it though. A clean house is still really important to me. The difference is that I might not clean as vigorously as I used to.

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