Visitor from Texas

My mother will be coming to visit this Wednesday. It is rare that we get visitors up here in the great Midwest, and when we have them, we are always very excited. My boys get to show off their world to their grandparents, aunts, or whoever is visiting, and to show a little of themselves off at the same time. That is cool.

There is, however, a downside. The cleaning. Have I mentioned that I HATE housework? I am content to work on the computer, balance our books for our family, raise and educate the children, shuttle little people back and forth to the places they need to go, shop, discipline said little people, anything but cleaning. I hate it. With all of my heart.

My sister is my hero. Every time I talk to her, she is cleaning something, or folding something, or mopping something. (That one was for you, sis.) Every time she is doing these things, I feel guilty. But then I tell myself, she has some time alone every day. Maybe if I wasn't constantly surrounded by little stinky boys I would get a bunch of things done, too. There, now I have my excuse to wallow in my own filth.

I must differentiate, here. I don't mind picking up. As a matter of fact, I am a bit of a fanatic with my boys that we keep the house picked up. Clutter makes me sinful. Clutter makes me want to cuss loudly. Clutter, well, let's just say its a bad thing. So, most of the time, our house remains picked up.

(Isn't that a funny phrase? Picking up the house? What a visual that is!)

Fast forward to today, and here I am needing to clean up my pitifully dirty home. My mother will be here in 4 days, and after today, I will only have one of those days at home without being gone for school, church, etc. Eeeeeeeeeeeeek. So, what are my choices here?

Well, I can clean like a fiend today. This is a good option since sons 1 through 3 will be gone at a friend's house all day. This leaves me and the 22 month old and a freshly bought, new set of cleaning supplies for the entire day. This sounds like a good plan.

There is another option, however. I could just say, forget it!! You birthed me, woman, so accept me the way I am! Come and sit in our grungy home and just love me without conditions!!!!!!

Okay, well, that doesn't sound like such a good option. And I am already doing that with my hair, so maybe I am going to clean all day.

I know she loves me without conditions, but there is only so much my pride can stand in one visit. My hair, well, we won't even go there. That I can't change right now. But the house, I can do something about.

So, I am off to the store to pick out a birthday present for the above mentioned friend of the boys, and then I will be cleaning the day away. I know I will survive. And it is only temporary after all. Some day I will finally be able to hire a maid to come and clean for me. Of course I will be taking my monthly trip to Disney World while she is here, so we will never even notice her. Probably by then the boys will all be doctors at age 16, and jointly ridding the world of all it's most terrible diseases. Since I am their mother, they will repay my hard work by supporting me and giving me my every dream come true. And as they are receiving their Nobel Peace Prize, they will credit me, yes me, for all of their accomplishments!

Well, really, is any of this less likely than me getting a maid? A girl can dream, right?