Cleaning

In the world of cleaning, laundry is by far the easiest, and, if I were forced to choose, would be my favorite. There is a sense of satisfaction in a stack of freshly laundered, good-smelling, clean clothes, the feeling of accomplishment in seeing an empty laundry basket.

And then Doug returns home.

Not that I don't want him to come home (believe me, I anxiously await his arrival). Nor is it that he is a messy sort of husband (on the contrary, he is much more meticulous than I and a good cleaner-upper). It's just that in half a second that feeling of accomplishment fades with a toss of a dress shirt and socks.

Then there is sweeping and vacuuming. It probably falls in the middle. I don't really mind (though dragging a canister vac around and being bumped and having to jerk the hose all the while carrying an infant on your back isn't my idea of fun), but it has to be done so much.

You eat breakfast, you sweep. You have a snack, you (should) sweep. You eat lunch, you (should) sweep. You have a snack, you (should) sweep. You have dinner, you sweep. That's why I like picnics!

(As an aside, I did borrow a Roomba from a friend, and it was wonderful except that it takes a long time to do a room and you must constantly charge the batteries. Two friends, each with 7+ kids, have them so maybe if we have at least 4 more kids I can justify getting one. On the other hand, Doug may think that it is cheaper and easier to hire a maid!)

Bathrooms, were I forced to choose, would be the least favorite of all. There is no sense of satisfaction, at least with small boys in the house, as there is always some sort of residue on or in the toilet. I don't understand why it's so hard to remember to "flush the toilet each time you use it."

This morning we were awakened to cries of frustration from the eldest son. Somehow he managed to urinate all of the floor of the bathroom (I think the problem was that in his early morning haze and need to do #2 he sat down and since his hands were occupied with holding a book, he was not able to properly arrange himself to do his business). Doug, thankfully, aided him in cleaning the floor, and then leaving for work, reminded me that I may want to mop.

I cleaned the toilet thoroughly, moved all sundry articles out of the floor, and mopped.

As soon as the floor was dry, Stephen needed to pee. It was deja vu all over again.

So again I was forced to clean the toilet and floor.

A couple of hours later, it happened again.

Thankfully it is cool enough to open windows and maybe the stench of stale urine will dissipate in the cool autumn air.

Maybe we should install a drain in the floor so I can attach a garden hose and just spray it down from now on. The boys would probably help.