Tag Archives: cleaning

Music makes the world go round

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We mommas do what we can.  Need some medicine . . . Mary Poppins comes to mind. More than once, I have sang “Whistle while you work” especially after spending the whole afternoon out in the garden. Dolly Parton and I are best friends (only she doesn’t know it) when I am balancing the checkbook online.  Singing for me makes any day just go better, and some days, it is the best I have to offer.

Over the weekend, I drove my children crazy! It was a nice role-reversal, I will confess. We are in graduation mode, preparing for our first high school commencement, and thus, are really trying to keep on top of all the details. At the same time, it means that we must be ever vigilant (that right there would have caused at least one of my kiddo’s eyes to roll) at keeping the house clean. As we were cleaning this weekend, we were simultaneously scanning in thousands (no joke) of film negatives and finalizing DVD’s which hold hours of our children’s early lives. The trip down memory lane has been well worth it.

To most people who have visited our home the whirlwind of frenetic activity which describes our weekend is definitely not surprising. We do crazy busy – well. For casual readers, my confession about disliking messes (okay, I loathe disorganization) was shared in my annual blog on the leprechauns a few days back. A few mommas were intrigued not by our wee visitors, but by my explanation of the cleaning day list.   When I still worked full-time (outside of my home – do not ever think this is not work) AND had three small children under the age of five, we had a cleaning lady.

Back in those days our life was blur! So much so that one time my parents came for a visit but were leaving for the airport after we had left for school, work, and daycare. When I got home that night, I was shocked (SERIOUSLY SHOCKED) that my sweet parents cleaned my house top to bottom. It was sparkling clean. Tears in my eyes and lump in my throat, I called to tell them how much their efforts meant to me. My dad stopped me cold. “Toot (don’t ask), we were enjoying our coffee, when this lady came right on in and started cleaning your house. We assumed you knew all about it.” First of all, there is something seriously wrong when my parents don’t check for credentials, but even more so that my life was so busy that I completely forgot it was cleaning lady day. On that second one; I am sure she was shocked because even though she always did a superb job, we ALWAYS cleaned for the cleaning lady. Lest she think we were living in a complete pig sty.

One day, we got the bright idea (I am telling you that sometimes we are parenting geniuses) we were not doing our children or the future college roommates any favors by letting them skip out on the day to day maintenance of this house. Who I am kidding? Once again, it is all about appearances. I did not want the college roommates to think my children were raised in barn. But seriously, mastering the skills of wrestling the world’s largest dust bunny, scrubbing a bathroom until it sparkles, and removing mystery stains from laundry should be required on college entrance exams. So with many tears (mostly shed by our children), we let the cleaning lady go to another lovely family. I’m pretty sure that “Help us!” sign I found later had been scribbled by one of our progeny. The sure give away was the “p” looked like a “d” and the “s” was backwards. Traitors! Sorry future college roommates! That day started the list method of cleaning.

While the list went well, there are other things (not list worthy) I just could not “let it go” (and yes, I did just totally sing that out loud) along with various other songs that just sprang forth over the weekend.

Here are a few examples:

After tripping over my children’s shoes at the front door, I decided to devise a system to say that unless they want me to break a hip and come to live with them in a few years, they better start lining up their shoes along the edge of the wall, toes touching the baseboards. I broke into “It’s all about the base, ‘bout that bass, no tripping. It’s all about that base, ‘bout that bass or you’re in trouble”. My kids then asked me how I knew that song. When I said I saw it over Thanksgiving, they informed me I was completely clueless because my version is a parody song about basting with butter.

The next shining moment came when one daughter stepped over the salad greens she had dropped on the kitchen floor to get more ice for her sweet tea (well, she is her mother’s daughter). This time I broke into, “Stop! In the name of love before you break my heart. Stop! And put that lettuce into the garbage can. Think it over! Do it now –ow- ow!”

My vast song memory (and although not required for this, my ability to sing) came in very handily this weekend. There was a brief rendition of “Don’t stop believing” when the faint-hearted among us thought the work would never be done. A few other songs joined my repertoire according to whatever grumble my children had at the moment.

This wasn’t my first foray into using song to get my point across. Long ago, back when our little town only had a small mecca of the South before it supersized, my children were asking me begging incessantly for a new toy. I finally had enough, and right there in aisle 17, I broke into a completely impromptu rap song about wanting more and more stuff. My children were astonished. My voice carried across the store, and I DID NOT CARE. Parents in the area were surprised, but I received more than a few “Atta girl’s”! The song was such a hit, that one dad even asked if I could sing it again. It was one of my proudest moments as a momma! Of course, this was long before cell phones where I am certain I would have been an internet sensation: “Crazy mom loses it in Wal-mart”!

Song-a-palooza or not, we got all the work done. The house was cleaned, another bazillion film negatives of precious memories were scanned in, various odd jobs were completed, and I think through the magic of music, I got my point across. Well, mostly. . . just watch that first step. Hope they are saving up for in home care!

My view while typing this blog.

My view while typing this blog.

And if it helps any momma (or daddy) out there needs it, here is the cleaning day list!

Cleaning day

Getting down and dirty

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Not that long ago, I read a housekeeping blog on how to clean your front-load washer and dryer. What do you mean? The forced and mandatory clean cycle is not enough? Say it ain’t so, Joe! It always seems that pesky reminder message appears when I am dealing with Mt. St. Laundry and (No! Thank you very much!) I do not wish to run the clean cycle right at this moment. Thankfully, there is a by-pass mode which allows me to complete five more loads before having to run the cycle to clean the washer itself.

washer

I would be lying to you if I said I had never encountered problems with my front loader before. My last set developed a distinct (Oh, shall we say used sweat sock) odor that no matter how many cycles of bleach, vinegar, or various washer-manufacturer cleaning supplies could not eradicate. A quick cursory look on the internet told me what I didn’t want to learn – mold! We had a serious mold issue in our tub which turns out is a known proclivity of front loading washers. When you have a child that is off the charts allergic to mold, this knowledge that her clothes could lead to anaphylactic shock was defeating at best. Short of replacing the tub, a costly expenditure to say the least, there was little we could do to remedy the situation.

We spoke to a technician who gave us some ideas of old fashioned remedies that helped for a while, before it became obvious we would have to replace the washer. When we bought the new set (another front loader) I did a ton of reading on how to prevent the mold build-up from happening again. Most information centered on not using commercial fabric softeners and using specific detergents for front loaders. All the forums highly recommended (as in Do not pass go and do not collect $200) never skipping the clean cycle on your front loader. Yeah, well tell that to my children who generate Mt. St. Laundry in the first place, and then need a specific shirt or uniform by dawn’s light. Where are the cleaning fairies when I need them?

After doing a little further research, I learned that just running the clean washer cycle was probably not enough and some other periodic cleaning would need to be done manually or should I say “womanually”. Hope springs eternal, and to be honest, I want to take care of the items God has chosen to bless my family. Not that many years ago, my husband washed his clothes in a bucket in the middle of a desert, when fighting for our country. A washing machine is a luxury globally, and even though the irritating reminder comes on at the least opportune time, I do want to take the best care I can of the old gal (Okay, really she is only a couple years old. I don’t want to offend her).

The process involves creating a mixture of half water and half vinegar. For the chemists among us, that would be a 1:1 ratio. Grabbing some paper towels and Q-tips is also very handy. Using the mixture you wipe down the interior tub and every available surface on and inside the washer. Then comes the part of cleaning inside the rubber seals on the tub and the tiny holes where water filters out. At first, cleaning the large areas just felt good and productive, but by the time I got to pulling back the rubber seals and digging into those tiny holes thoughts of “Well, I am sure glad I got a degree in advanced chemistry for this job” were at the forefront of my thoughts. Let me tell you people what came out on those cotton swabs was beyond disgusting. I liken it to what the cleaning lady saw after the birth of Reed when the doctors and nurses and my husband and my new baby left me lying there on the table because two of us mommas shared the same doctor in our small town hospital.   I had the luck of delivering two minutes before the other gal. Rather than finish piecing me back together, there I lay waiting for almost an hour. The poor cleaning lady thought the room was empty and just came right on in to the shock of her life. Needless to say the gunk that came out of my washing machine was equally as shocking!

I do not advise cleaning your washer with clothes inside it. But it is a snow day in Minnesota and we are getting lots done around here! These are the offensive holes.

I do not advise cleaning your washer with clothes inside it. But it is a snow day in Minnesota and we are getting lots done around here! These are the offensive holes.

The longer I worked the more my efforts resulted in more hidden disgusting gunk being revealed. My thoughts were not pleasant and a whole lot of grumbling was going on. Then I was reminded of the time my lamenting about cleaning kids, dishes, and laundry resulted in my Mama saying, “Well, bless your heart. Isn’t it terrible you have all those things to clean?” Pretty convicting words!

Sitting on my laundry room floor surrounded by more yuck than I knew was imaginable; I began to examine my heart. How many times do I harbor the gunk of life and bring that with me to the throne room of God? More often than I want to admit. I want to bring my requests and my concerns – a laundry list, if you will – without cleaning out the yucky stuff first. It was a humbling lesson. A reminder from God what place I sometimes reserve for him in my busy day. Definitely not something I would boast about. Thankfully though, my God specializes in messy people. He loves us even we forget to clean out the dirt and have it hidden in all kinds of places. Instead of grumbling like me about misplaced opportunities, God has the crimson blood of his son which scrubs every heart clean and fresh as snow.

Even though that was seriously one of the dirtiest jobs I have ever done, today I am so incredibly thankful for endless grace for messy hearts and a washing machine that still gets the job done!