Friday, February 22, 2013

My DIRTY little secret.

Yesterday I was out and texted a friend that I was going to stop by to drop something off for her, "Was she home?".  She responded, "My house is nasty and I'm coloring when I should be cleaning."  This made me laugh.

So after I popped in and chatted with her for 10 minutes or so, then I was on my way.

Then I started thinking, dwelling, like I always do.  I thought back and whatever "nasty" is...I didn't see it. 

If someone offered me 1 million dollars I would not be able to tell you if I smelled any weird odors, if there were crumbs on her counters, if there were dishes by her sink, if her toilets were clean, if there were toys everywhere.  I'm serious.  I have absolutely no idea.

I saw her.  I saw her cute children.  I left knowing that she listened to me, because I was on a rant when I got there.  I left knowing that she was kind because she thought of me and gave me a few things for me and my kids as I left.

That got me thinking, dwelling, even more.  What kind of impression do I give?  If my house is clean when I have people over, do others think that it is always like that, and I'm judging them?

If someone "popped in" on me, would I be obsessing about what they don't even see? 

Here is my DIRTY little secret...and this may or may not make you want to "pop in" on me.  My house is RARELY clean.  If someone "popped in" on me most days:

-crumbs are all over the floor, tables, counters

-at LEAST 5 pairs of shoes are at the bottom of the stairs and scattered around other areas of the house where you are highly likely to trip on them (even though we have a designated shoe closet.  GOSH shoes are a BATTLE around here...)

-not a SINGLE throw pillow is on the couch (because my children have a strange obsession with throwing them on the floor)

-the art table is a disaster of cut paper, glue and several rotten apples (they don't show you the rotten apples in PB catalogs) (these rotten apples may not only be at the art table, but in other very odd places around the house where only a child would lay down an apple...and they may not be found for days...)

-there is a VERY large mountain of mail on the counter

-at LEAST 15 items are by the sink, including no less than 5 dirty baby bottles

-EVERYTHING has tiny-children-hand-and-finger-smudges...the walls, the light switches, the windows, the mirrors, the sinks, the doorknobs, the counters...

-PILES everywhere.  Clothes piles, mail piles, shoe piles, pillow piles... You get the picture.

-my stove top has globs of black stuff on it.  (I starting cooking something the other day and smoke was coming off of it and I seriously thought it was going to catch on fire.)

-a faint (or strong) smell of urine or poop because our dog is old and has at least one accident per day (or Jay has missed the toilet target...again...even though he has had 3.5 years of practice)

-my bathrooms are as dirty as a truck stop (not a nice truck stop...the kind that you stop at when you are in the middle of nowhere, one with no posted cleaning schedule, one you leave thinking you may have contracted a disease)

And that is JUST downstairs.

You don't believe me, just ask my husband...or my college roommate...

He teases me when I'm in the middle of a "people are coming to my house" psycho clean that, "Wow, we REALLY need to have people over more often."

Yesterday taught me that they are not seeing what I see in my own home.  They are not judging me.

When I have people over, I get crazy.  If I have a 30 minute warning I can do A LOT, and it is unbelievable what BEFORE and AFTER can happen in 2 hours. (I should be on a reality TV show.)  When the pressure is on I'm a bit "Martha".  I FREAK.  If some one popped by and saw what I mentioned above I would apologize over and over and make excuses and point out things that they didn't even notice, when I should be listening, when I should be being a friend, when I should be being "Mary". 

That's the truth, there I said it.  So friends, if I go in your home and it is not up to your expectations.  Don't worry about me judging, or even noticing.  Just hand me a crayon,  I'm feeling right at home.


Tara said...

Thanks Sally! Pop over anytime!

Johanna V. said...

This post cracks me up. Erin & I caught up with a telephone call a couple of nights ago and talked about this EXACT thing.