No that’s not my home. He-he, but wouldn’t it be nice!
You know how you see photos on Instagram and then you say to yourself, oh I bet that’s rarely the case, or its all for show, or with three kids I bet her home gets really messy….seriously though….my house is almost, always clean and organized…Okay, dusting (people still do that?) has become a thing of the past now that I have twins; but I do keep a clean house.
Here’s a peek at my humble abode.
The first two levels are great but it’s that third level that most people don’t see. Well, when we sleep in our bedroom regularly it’s clean. I think the answer to this dilemma is having guests. Whenever the guest room is occupied for extended stays….our bedroom is clean and sparkly (as my three-year old says). So who’s coming to visit? I dread cleaning it now, but it must be done. Just not this weekend when my kids and hubby are away. I WILL NOT CLEAN ANYTHING. This is my vow! I’m not even running the vacuum. Lol
This pic doesn’t fully capture the all-encompassing abyss.
The term OCD never existed for me while growing up. We may not have had much, but we had enough. We had love. We had laughter. We had fun, and tons of it! And we had a clean home. I was raised with my grandparents in the rural parts of Jamaica and although it was close to a dozen of us in a three bedroom house it was mainly clean (minus the boy’s room, the bed was always made though). Clothes were never piled up on the floor or things laying out-of-place. The house was always clean including the shiny, cold tile that had to be cleaned while on all fours with a coconut brush EVERY Saturday until you could see your reflection. Do you even know what a coconut brush is?
Like I said, we had a clean home. As I’ve grown into my adult years I have realized that I may slightly have OCD tendencies. Okay, maybe more than slightly. Shhhh, what triggered these thoughts was my hubby grabbing three water bottles for his trip yesterday. He grabbed two off the door (leaving three there) then one from the organized water tray. I can’t remember if I had grabbed one from the organized tray before he grabbed his, so naturally he’s getting the blame.
When I went to grab a water. I scolded my husband in my mind. I quickly replaced the bottle on the organized tray (making sure the letters were aligned with the others) then grabbed one from the door (The one that had an indentation) and thought, “seriously, who does that?” Isn’t that a sign of OCD?
I hate things out-of-order. I hate dishes piled in the sink (whew, Lord, deep breaths). Yes, I know hate is a strong word but I really do HATE it. If there’s a place for something, for heaven’s sake just put it where it belongs. If it was up to me, we would live in a VERY modern contemporary (idk exactly what that is. Lol, but I like it) home with secret storage EVERYWHERE and everything white, minus the stainless steel appliances. That will never happen, but a girl can dream.
I have not been clinically diagnosed and no I’m not nearly as bad as Monk. Having three kids under three is quite a bit to handle but I strive to have a clean home for my sanity. I literally get discombobulated when things aren’t organized. Like really, I get anxious and feel burdened. There’s something wrong with me, isn’t it?
What are some of your pet peeves? How do you handle it?
Who wakes up and writes about this stuff on their kid-free weekend? This crazy mama.
Thanks for reading 😘