Dirt….

This post is about dirt… literally. I have a lot of it in my house. And I’m coming clean about that. Hah hah! =)

See, I used to be practically OCD. Infertility did that to me. I cleaned and straightened because it was the only thing in my life that I could control.

6 years and 3 boys later, I have had to let go of some control issues in this area.

Without further ado, I shall confess my filthiness in order to make the rest of you feel just a little bit better.

- My bathroom sink is surrounded by thick yellow soap scum. I can’t tell you about my shower because it would frighten you.

- The top of David’s dresser is stacked high with picture frames that I’ve been meaning to put up for a year and a half now. They’re covered in dust. If you blow on them, you might start coughing.

- There are stains on my sofa cushions. I’ve turned them around to hide the stains. Then I acquired more stains. I then turned them around and upside down. They’re still stained.

- We have a beta fish in a bowl. I didn’t change the water in that bowl for 3 months once. It got lower and lower and scummier and scummier. Eventually, it looked like the fish was swimming around in a little puddle barely deep enough for him. It was terribly guilt inducing. I kept forgetting to buy the bottled water you have to have to change the water. I put him upstairs when we went away for a weekend because I didn’t want the neighbor who was feeding the cat to see him and be totally horrified.

- Does anyone want a beta fish?

- There is a pile of quilts, old Valentine’s, and Evan’s baby items in the corner of my room beside my dresser. Have I mentioned that Evan is currently 2 1/2?

- I just discovered that the back of a rocking chair rocker in Ben’s room was covered with dried spit up. I have no idea how long it’s been there.

- When my shower scrubby fell apart, I left the rope handle thingy lying in the bottom of the shower…. for 3 weeks.

- I can write my name in the dust on the bookcases in my bedroom.

- I find cobwebs in the corners of rooms occasionally.

- The number of moldy things I’ve pulled out from behind the produce drawers in my fridge now numbers in the double digits.

- The angel Christmas light that sits in Ben’s bedroom window is still there. It may be there until Easter.

- When the boys drop cereal on the floor, I ask them to clean it up. They then get on the floor, pick it up, and eat it. I praise them for this, and I haven’t told them that it isn’t an acceptable way to clean up the kitchen floor. So sue me.

You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that confessional just a little. I keep my kitchen clean, and the downstairs bathroom gets cleaned pretty regularly. Nobody’s ever gotten sick from eating from my kitchen. Just don’t go upstairs without your tetanus shot.

And this is even though my in-laws have paid for professional house cleaning a few times since the baby has been born. I’ve stretched it out to once every 2-3 months. I shudder to think of the state of affairs if they hadn’t….

This post is in honor of my Sarah, the cleanest person that I know. If I can find happiness living in filth, so can you, my dear. =)