I’ve already mentioned in a previous post about by relationship with cleaning… Mess does make me anxious, I can’t be totally comfortable in it… I sit and stare at it out the corner of my eye wishing it away, my little twitch going in my hands, fingers doing their little frantic dance…. I’m surprised I have any inside left on my cheek, I chew it so much!!
I’m doing it now at this moment… Typing on here to distract me…. The eggs from the Nana lying all over the table, wrappers on the floor, princess Duplo scattered all over the place… Swords & jammies left on the couch and the cushions… Oh my cushions…. All bunched up on one side, two on the floor… Juice cup on the footstool, manky boy socks beside it… No idea where they came from!!
I went on a crazy clean spree yesterday, before I went out for the night.. So I wouldn’t have to wake up to mess… But the daddy let me sleep for a change & got up with the kids for me.. Which is lovely, but it meant I didn’t have my nice ordered living-room to walk in too…
It’s really not that bad, nothing a little half hour wouldn’t fix… I could get up and do it, make everything all ordered and in those little lines that I need… But the spawn is snuggled in beside me, playing his game… He asked me to not clean and spend the time with him instead.. Is no competition, I know my OCD makes me think I need those things, that it’s all in my head, irrational!! There are times I can’t fight it, but when I’m with my kids, I know that that my love for them is real and absolute! That nothing else matters, my only compulsion is to show them that they are more important to me than whether my bloody cushions are straight!!
So I wait, we will sit here and I will show him how to do head shots, another quirk of mine… Then when he is in his bed, this houses ass is mine!!