Friday, July 22, 2022

Trying to Get my Mojo Back, part 2

Hey, there! I'm back! 

If you wondered where I've been, I've been in my front yard taking deep breaths and a lot of naps. Although I would consider my COVID case to be mild, it still kicked my ass for about a week and a 1/2. But, I'm coughing less, I'm less out of breath, and I'm heading outside to mow the lawn here in a few. All this to say: if you are following my "get my mojo back" journey for inspiration on how to do it, getting COVID is the opposite of what you should do. 0/10 would not recommend.

So, what's my Mojo, you ask? It's just me. Finding me again. Feeling okay in my own skin. Relearning how to love the things I used to love. Relearning how to look in the mirror and see beauty. Relearning how to fill my lungs with air and feel accomplished. Trying to learn some self-acceptance.

My journey this summer to try to find myself again has 4 parts to it: Reading, Writing, Moving, and Cleaning. And my goal was to dedicate 30 days (non-contiguous) to to the journey. COVID took me out on day 18, so I've got a long way to go and not a lot of time left. 

And now I'm going to admit to my life-long struggle with cleaning.

I grew up in households where moms maintained the cleaning, and where daily and weekly kid chores were the norm. Weekly, I scoured the bathroom sink. Why? I still am not sure. Like, doesn't the toothpaste just clean it on its own? Regardless, that was one of my chores. Dusting was another. Folding the laundry and doing the dishes were also on my task lists. 

These houses were always spotless, as were the homes of my grandparents.

But here's the thing: these houses also had a cleaning lady who came in a couple of times a month for $25/hour and did the big stuff.

Photo by JESHOOTS.COM on Unsplash

I have never had a cleaning lady. And my own kids don't chore.

And so, some things in my household get done: I pay the bills, buy the groceries, cook the meals, fold the laundry, clean the toilets, wipe down the sinks, do the yardwork and gardening. Michael vacuums the carpets and sorts and washes the laundry and unplugs the shower drain on the regular. Helena waters the plants. I'm trying to convince Sam to fill the bird feeders and scoop the cat litter. The trash gets taken out and the dishwasher gets unloaded by whoever is annoyed by it at the time.

But the other stuff? The decluttering and the dusting and the mopping of floors? It just doesn't happen. Ever.

I don't have time during the school year to do this stuff. I have too much on my plate as it is. And I also don't have the money to hire a cleaning lady. It doesn't make financial sense to take on another freelance job just to pay someone to mop the floors.

So, this summer, I have 30 days to get it done.

So far, I've deep cleaned everything in the main bathroom except the floor. And I've gone through all of the stuff in the pantry and refrigerator, and thrown out outdated stuff and donated the stuff we just haven't eaten in the last year. Two huge trash bags of stuff have gone out, and I actually (temporarily) know where everything is in these 2 rooms. I still have to clean out all the kitchen drawers, where crumbs have overtaken the silverware drawer, and where paperclips and coffee grounds have invaded the "cooking implements" drawers. And I still have to mop the damn floors.

Next up, the living room and storage area. Sports equipment and art supplies for days. Everything must go.

And finally, my own bedroom closet, where I am determined to actually purge 6 sizes worth of clothes that no longer fit. 

I wish I had time to sell all the stuff, but I don't. 

I wish I had time to Marie Kondo it, but I don't.

Instead, I'm shoving clutter into trash bags, I'm mailing bags of clothes to ThredUp so I can get 20 cents back on the 1000s of dollars I've spent, and I'm wiping surfaces down with a Clorox wipe and calling it good.

My house will never stand up to the standards of my moms, but I swear it's going to be cleaner around here by the end of 30 days. 

Less stuff. Less clutter. Less dust. Less guilt.

As soon as I mop the damn floors.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Comments on this blog are moderated. I will approve on-topic and non-abusive comments. Thank you!