So as I write this, it is LATE Monday night and I found out about 3 hours ago that my mom and dad are coming to visit. On Thursday. As in LESS THAN 72 hours. Crap. Perhaps I should clarify. My mother was a stay at home mom when my sister and I were little. Our house was immaculate. All the time. She cooked dinner every night and had it ready when my dad got home and we all sat at the table like a Norman Rockwell Family. (I know that you are all shocked that I was raised this way and yet still somehow managed to turn out the way that I am).
My mother is a remarkable woman and I love her and she loves me, but she has her way and I have mine. They are not the same. My mother changed the sheets on the beds at least once a week. She cleaned the bathrooms, swept, mopped, dusted, and vacuumed every week without fail. There was never a dish left in the sink over night. Clothes were never left too long in the washer making it necessary to rewash them. AND SHE IRONED. Not just shirt and pants, but pillowcases and tablecloths and napkins. (We didn't use those at normal dinners, just for company).
Once, before we had kids and we when we were living in Louisville, I took the day off of work to REALLY clean our apartment because my mom was coming to visit and I was determined to impress her by how "together" my life was. I cleaned the carpets, vacuumed the furniture, scrubbed the baseboards -- I literally cleaned EVERYTHING. My parents arrived, we hugged, and they sat on the couch. Then my mom said "Ginger, your throw pillows are filthy! You need to take the covers off and wash them." She had been there less than five minutes. That pretty much was the last time I tried to impress my mom with my "housewifery." After we had kids, it became mostly about not freaking her out. I was not always successful. Once, when she was visiting, there were 3 hampers in my laundry room. She washed, dried, and folded then all. Only problem was, they were already clean. She could not believe that I would have clean clothes all wadded up in a hamper like that. She had a sort of "intervention" with me. She said I couldn't keep living like this. I had to do better. What my mom doesn't understand is that I DO try. If I didn't try, the clothes wouldn't be clean at all.
And she'll be here Thursday night. Which means that I have approximately 2 1/2 days to do about 5 months worth of cleaning. CRAP.
I've been dealing with a sick kid and an out of town husband and lack of sleep and stuffy old ladies who send me sugary sweet yet entirely offensive emails about my blog posts and psychotic stay at home moms -- I'm not sure that I have it in me to not have her freak out a little when she gets here. I should be cleaning. But I'm not. Nope, I'm working on this blog at 12:30 on what is now Tuesday and listening to the 2 year old cough in the next room. So, you're welcome. I'll most likely be interrogated as to "how I let it get this bad" and be told that "I have to do better than this" but at least you all got your daily blog post. Crap.