Compulsion or Reality?

Compulsion or reality?

Looking around my house this morning I saw some clutter. In my mind, once a clean house gets cluttered. That means that it is dirty, and once de-cluttered must be re-cleaned, even if I just did it a few days ago. I went around and picked everything up, sorted the laundry, Steve had unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher. I was set to start dusting, vacuuming & cleaning bathrooms. But I stopped, and took an honest look at my house. What did I see? A damned beautiful home. If ANYTHING needs to be done at all, it’s just a quick vacuuming of the great room carpet and furniture since that’s where we all hang out the most. The dog hair gets a little out of hand.

So where does this wacked out version of cleanliness come from? This neurosis is the gift that keeps on giving that I received from my mother. Yes, she sure did teach me how to clean house, but… a woman’s value does not come from how perfect her house is at every second. If there are crumbs on the kitchen floor, I feel like I’m a failure. OMG there is a spot of spilled jelly in the fridge, call the refrigerator police! The guilt that I feel that there is a week and a half of laundry in the hall way upstairs is almost overwhelming. I look at those neatly sorted piles and all I see is the start of a hoarding problem, is it time to ask TLC for help?

This is crazy, and I know it’s crazy. My head tells me that the reality is that my home at it’s worst is cleaner than most people’s homes at it’s best. The reality is that I am way too worried about it, and I spend more time cleaning than I need to. The reality is that the kids and Steve actually do help, and are more in the “normal” zone when it comes to living in our house. The reality is that I have expectations of myself and my family that are unattainable unless everyone obsesses over the house as much as I do. The reality is that if I keep myself busy cleaning, I have an excuse for not getting out into the social world. The BIGGEST reality, is that I need to make sure I do not pass this on to my girls.

I don’t make my children clean 1/10th as much as I did as a teenager. My mother would have me cleaning every day after school, all day Saturday, all day Sunday, and once I finished my list…she would just add to the list, rather than letting me be done. I missed out on a lot because I had to stay home and clean house. My friends even remember it 20+ years later. I absolutely refuse to let my children miss out on fun opportunities because I have this ridiculous need to have the house ready for a Better Homes and Gardens shoot at every moment. They both know how to do dishes, clean a bathroom, dust, vacuum, laundry… they will be able to manage their homes when they leave here.

So, I spend most of MY time trying to live up to the unreachable standards set by my mother for my entire childhood. I remember my mother telling me just before I got married “You’ll never keep a man like Steve because you don’t know how to keep a house”. She probably doesn’t even remember saying it in one of her fits of rage, but it sure stuck with me. I know that Steve would never leave me if I were to let the house go a little, that’s just dumb. Yet, there’s always that little voice in my head “you better be perfect or you’ll be alone.”

So, my rational mind knows this is all compulsion. But my crazy mind can’t shut it off, so I must force the issue. The goal today is NOT to dust, NOT to vacuum more than the great room carpet and furniture so we’re not sitting in dog hair, to ONLY wipe down the kitchen sink and counters after we eat dinner. (and do a little laundry, REALITY is that the kids can’t go to school naked or in dirty clothes) That’s it, the daily stuff, nothing more. I will NOT clean floors that are already clean. I will NOT dust tables that have no dust. I will not re-clean a clean bathroom. I will go through the anxiety, and come through it realizing the entire world didn’t come to an end because I left a fingerprint on the mirror =)