Wednesday, September 1, 2010
I often measure how together I feel by the status of my floors. If I'm walking around on dirty floors, hopping over toys to get to the ringing phone, in a ridiculous game of hopscotch, then I've probably said to myself several times that day "man, I've got to pull it together". When my floors are clean and clutter free I feel like a good and honest person, a thorough and caring parent and a talented and consistent homemaker.
When I've got it 'together' we do a toy pick up twice a day: before lunch and before dinner. On 'together' days I do a big, thorough, end to end sweep each evening and several spot-sweepings after meals. On days I don't have it 'together' we only pick up at the end of the day and we don't care if we get it all. I only sweep the truly offensive messes and leave the small stuff for another day.
I usually mop on Mondays. And here it is Wednesday and there are already spots-of-an-unknown-substance on the floor around Isaac's chair. My kitchen floor has a light dusting of flour from my cookie project and there are colorforms stuck here and there in odd locations.
It is hard work to keep things clean around here. Really, really hard work. And work that only I seem to care about. Everyone else seems to remain healthy and happy whether or not craisans are stuck to their socks. Craisans on my socks drive me mad.
And so I do the work for me. I try to keep the floors relatively clean. Keeping things tidy has become a form of mama care. Keeping up with the endless cycle of cleaning, instead of driving me mad, (which repetitive behavior that has no lasting effect is suppose to do), makes me feel like I am closer and closer to staying level headed.
What do you use to gauge whether or not you have it together?