I have a secret.
Are you listening?
I hate to clean. There, I said it. I hate it. Hate, hate, hate.
I love to straighten. I like things to appear clean. But I? Hate.to.clean.
So yesterday morning I reluctantly got out of bed, although it was a tad-bit easier as I was awoken by the chatter of "Da-Da-Da" coming from my sweet girl. [Oh how I love her babbles.]
We went downstairs, saw Daddy off to work, and we did our normal morning routine. I give Eme lots of snuggles, she squeals with delight. I plop her in the high chair, while I whisk around the kitchen getting her breakfast ready (banana's), while drinking my coffee and throwing a bagel in the toaster. I feed her, and in between her bites, I eat my breakfast too. It's a grand old time.
Then, I lay her down on a blanket with a plethora of toys around her, and turn on Baby Faith (aka: the christian baby-einstein)--and I sit right near her with my laptop catching up on blogs. It's a nice wake-up time for us (err, me).
One of the first posts I came across in my reader was from Katie. If you don't read her blog, you need too. Anyway, her post was all about the chores and things she wanted to get done around the house yesterday, and she wrote about how hard her hubby works, and how keeping house is part of her job as a SAHM.
I immediately felt like a whammo-brick hit me in the face, and I also got inspired.
I should be doing more.
Less straightening. More cleaning. I was inspired to clean.
Whicka-What?! I know. Right?
My husband works his arse off, though. I have time during her naps to get things done without sacrificing quality time with my girl.
So, as soon as Eme went down for her first nap-I went to work.
Scrubbing toilets, hand-washing the floor, washing the rugs in the bathrooms, stripping the bed of the linens, putting on the heated mattress pad (heaven!), washing the sheets, dusting our room, dusting the living room, scrubbing the kitchen counters, organizing the massive piles of shoes in my foyer, staying on top of the laundry and collecting trash around the upstairs.
Then, my dear woke up and we played for a little while. We headed to the store and picked up a few pink totes to start organizing her clothes that she's outgrown and a few other things.
She went back down for a second nap, and once again, I went to work.
I organized all of her clothes and packed away all 0-3 month stuff [may or may not have cried a little when looking at her Newborn onesies, gah! they grow so fast!], I tackled the disgusting mess that was our closet and hung and put away all the clothes (literally...like 4 basketful's of stuff. Madness!), and then I re-made the bed with fresh and clean sheets.
Not to mention when my sweet husband came home, he came in to a home-cooked meal (and I even GRILLED the chicken), and a clean and organized house.
After I told him all about my day, he told me that this officially qualified me as a "domestic diva". Score. My life's dream.
I'm gonna try to keep at it. Really.
Thanks to my friend, Katie for the cleaning inspiration. It went a long way, and at the end of the day I was proud of all I accomplished.