Well-behaved women

rarely make history.

I had no clue that being a mother would mean being a full-time maid as well. Seriously, nobody ever told me about this. Until I was about 16 I thought my messes magically disappeared on their own. There must have been magical laundry fairies washing my clothes every week.

But then I popped The Child out of my vagina, and I learned the bitter truth.

I guess some women just loooooooooooooove cleaning. And you know, I think I would loooooooooooove cleaning too if there wasn't a Tiny Tornado swirling around behind me. I sweep, she drops crumbs on the floor. (Even if she has no food, I have no clue how that happens.) I wipe, she drags her grubby Toddler Hands across the surface, leaving a strange mixture of spit, snot, and gooey slime behind like some sort of slug.

In an attempt to cut down on the inevitable mess, I'm going to try to get Joss to eat only at the dining room table. Until now we've been eating in the living room. Yeah, I know, hate me all you want. But we didn't even have a table until a few months ago. Old habits die hard.

Maybe if I restrict ALL food to the dining room, I won't have to sweep every square inch of the house 10 times a day.

No, seriously.

I've swept and vacuumed five times already, and the day is only half over. I made the mistake of letting Joss have a cracker while she ran around. Thirty seconds later there were crumbs EVERYWHERE. No thank you.

I don't even think about cleaning the blinds or dusting every day. Ptttshhhh, that's just too much work for me. It's hard enough to keep the floor clean, let alone make food three times a day. This depression thing sucks balls.

But anyway...does it ever get better? Am I doomed to a lifetime of servitutde? Will I never get a break from the daily grind of cleaning and sweeping and wiping and scrubbing?

I mean...will it at least get better once Joss is older and I can make her my little cleaning slave? (I kid, I kid. Put the phone down.)

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