Awwww, Mom! Do I HAVE TO?!?!?
Yes, you do, and don't come out until it's spotless!
Believe it or not, this was grown-up me arguing with my inner whiny teen, earlier today.
I am a good mother, wife, and housekeeper (shudder) for lack of a better word. I'm no neat freak but I have a beautiful home and I like it to stay that way. It's tough, though. My mother watches my tots, both under the age of 5, every day and they are in the house, most days, all day. In my pretty house. Eating crumbly corn chips. Using sticky stickers. Brushing linty, furry stuffed animals. The mess doesn't end. There's no shortage of things that need to be vacuumed or straightened or put away. Somehow, we manage. Most days I'd be horrified if I had an unexpected guest but in reality, we are hardly ever more than an hour away from a presentable home.
Except for our bedroom.
To say it's messy would be the understatement of the century. Forget dust bunnies, I have dust PONIES in there!
How does this happen?
Believe me, I have read all of the articles about how your bedroom should be a beautiful and serene haven of relaxation. Better yet, it should be an exotic retreat for you and your spouse to connect on a romantic level.... hang on.... can't... stop... laughing.
Okay, I'm done. I've heard it all but the fact of the matter is, nobody visit the bedroom. At least, not in my case. It's the place to hide everything so the rest of the house doesn't look like a dump. Under my bed is the graveyard of unused video game consoles. On my dresser are the shoes my son wore for his Christening. He's now almost 3-years-old. It's the room with the huge pile of pants that (thankfully) are much too big on me now but I haven't quite figured out what do do with. Hell, it's the room that we never got around to adding window trim and closet doors to when we built our house 6 years ago!!! 90% of the things that happen in there happen in the dark anyway. Who cares if my sweaters are hanging there exposed?!?! It's dark... I can't see them!
Why the sudden urge to kick my own ass into cleaning it? There could only be one reason. I'm having overnight guests and one of them will be using my bedroom. PANIC!
This was a MONUMENTAL undertaking. I actually took a half-day off work to do it! There were about six-billion receipts from Christmases past, costume jewelry all tangled up into something resembling modern art, enough orphaned socks to assemble a formidable sock puppet army and an oscilloscope. Yes, I'm married to an engineer and no, I don't know what he was planning to measure with it in there.
I washed my sheets and my comforter. I emptied the waste basket. I straightened my many, many shoes. I stowed away those over-sized pants. I waded through the muck and dust and the occasional spider (EEEK!) and, eventually, found my bedroom.
It seemed impossible that I had finished the job. I didn't come out, as per my own orders, until it was spotless. And I'm so glad! It looks lovely. I should invite more people to come stay in my bedroom...umm...that could mean something other than I intended.
I am happy to report that the end result is just like that haven of serenity and relaxation I've always read about... only without closet doors!