I’m a Domestic Diva, BUT…..

Yesterday I cleaned like a Diva. Like a fascist neo-nazi with one agenda: To do away with and destroy any dirt, dust or decay.

I have the good fortune of being able to clean during week days as I’m a stay at home mum and don’t work.

Woooooaaahh, back the truck up! Did I just say I don’t work?

Clarification: Most days I don’t have time to pull my knickers out of my butt crack and rid myself of my wedgie I’m so busy.

A few months before I fell pregnant I started my own business called SPLASH.  It’s a marketing, copyright and design business. The design part is HIGHLY ambitious but at the time I was planning on doing a few courses. Luckily I’ve taught myself a lot!

I had a few clients, but one in particular has been lucrative and ongoing since I started. The work varies. Some weeks busy, some weeks not so much, but mostly consistently part time. I do the work from home.

I also just started writing for a monthly lifestyle magazine. It’s only 400 words (well, it’s supposed to be only 400 words, I always go over), and only once a month so it’s hardly time consuming. Actually if you work it out it’s about 13 words a day. I can type that in less than 20 seconds.

Then there’s this. My blog, and entirely unpaid. It’s good because I get to decide what I write about, which I usually base on an experience I’ve had, or something I’ve seen or read.

THEN there’s the exhausting demands of motherhood. I realise it sounds totally cruisey to get to stay at home with your child all day but it just IS NOT. It’s the hardest job I’ve ever had. And this – another unpaid job of mine – involves LONG hours.

So as you can CLEARLY see I DO WORK. But yesterday any work and my blog were put aside because I needed to clean. Except that I still had to do my MOTHER job.

I should point out that I don’t just clean. I ‘Cindy-clean.’ Well actually, ‘Mum clean.’ It’s my mother’s fault and I blame her that I can’t knowingly clean a bathroom without scrubbing every inch of tiled wall. Without going over every meter of skirting board with a hot soapy sponge (yep, even the ones behind furniture). I blame her that I can’t just wipe down the kitchen cupboard fronts. I also have to open the cupboard, clean the inside, along the top, and also move the plates and wipe the shelf. I blame her that I wipe down the doors, door frames, light fittings and switches.

Anyway, I’m glad I inherited this neurotic-pedantic-clean-freak gene. BUT lately I’ve been letting go a little.

I posted a while back on Facebook that having a spotless house and having a baby is a bit like chalk and cheese? No I never said that. I’ve never tried chalk and cheese together. I said it was like putting sultanas into savoury dishes. The two just don’t go well together at all.

And neither does cleaning your house and looking after a toddler. Yesterday as I cleaned one bathroom, I heard the mystery chatter of my daughter coming from the other bathroom. I stopped and did a mental check-list of anything she might ‘get into.’ Toilet brush – up high. Bin – empty. Toilet roll – not in reach. Shower door – shut. All fine. Continue.

Five minutes later I wandered in to find her sitting amongst a sea of tampons, including 3 in her mouth. I’m not sure what she thought she was playing with, perhaps she was crafting me a lovely vest…. (They were still in plastic, all ok…)  Not only that but I had accidentally left my lipstick bag open, and she had hot pink all over her hands and face.

When I collected up the tampons, removed them from her mouth, and wiped away the lippy, she cried. Actually she screamed and convulsed in my arms as I carried her out of there. Did I mention she has drama queen tendencies?

The whole clean up / calm down exercise took about 10 minutes. Not that long. But guess what? That’s ten minutes worth of wall wiping I DIDN’T DO.

I wasn’t lying before. I DID clean my heart out yesterday. But when it was all done, and my child was finally in bed for the night, I realised something.  I felt as though I had done more cleaning than usual, but on reflection I had actually done less.

I stopped and started more. I repeated stuff; like re-vacuuming  floors.  I put away the same toys about 4 times. I cleaned windows only to discover the same little finger prints 5 minutes later. I found rocks from outside – inside. Spoons from inside – outside. And also stopped mid way for 2 meals, 5 nappies, 8 books, 3 ‘ouches’ and one very quick puppet show with a tiger.

I just can’t get as much cleaning done in a day as I used to. 

I really would love to be able to Teflon coat everything. Why, just days ago I wrote on Facebook that I would love to be able to cover my couch in plastic. Yes… Like she of Everybody Loves Raymond. Actually, exactly like my Aunty. (My mother’s sister who possesses the same cleaning gene).

Why do I wish I could cover the couch? Because I’m so sick of cleaning or wiping off snot patches, or coloured pencil, or banana.

I pulled my 20 month old aside yesterday after she (unbeknown to me) took her blackcurrant juice bottle off the top of the highchair and emptied the entire contents onto the couch. I looked her in the eyes with my ‘mean mum, serious look’ and said, “This is NOT ok. This is not good behaviour. This makes mummy grumpy and actually, it’s getting very old.”

She smiled, then laughed. And I wondered to myself how many more years I’ll be having conversations like that. Hopefully not many.

And it IS getting old: The couch. The child. The continuous cleaning.  And most of all me.

And there’s nothing worse than an ageing diva.

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10 comments

  1. mandy · June 17, 2010

    Hey Cindy! I love reading your blog! I always find it so entertaining!
    I was just saying to Keith that I would love a whole day to clean minus kids. I never thought I would ever wish for a whole day of cleaning! The kids make messes quicker than I can clean them up. Most days I just give up and think what’s the point, but then I have a very grumpy husband. I can’t win!!!
    Thanks for the few minutes of enjoyment I get when I read your blog!

    • cyclonecindy · June 17, 2010

      Hey Mandy. Thank you, and glad you enjoy.
      I think it’s nice to know we’re not alone in our frustrations. I do think Sonia’s story above is an outstanding example, and something I hope I never have to experience, but yes – cleaning without children is a luxury. And like you say – since when is cleaning a luxury!!!???

  2. sonia griffiths · June 17, 2010

    owen went through a stage that when ever I was on the phone he would break something or cause a huge mess. One time he emptied an entire 1kg box of cat biscuits all over the bathroom floor, poured no more tears shampoo all over the cat biscuits and was dancing on top of it all, and eating cat biscuits. Luckily I was in a good mood that day so instead of killing him I took photos.

    • cyclonecindy · June 17, 2010

      HILARIOUS! xo

      • Mel · June 17, 2010

        The tampon part made me laugh – H was sooo quiet one day & I went into the bathroom to discover he had stuck pads everywhere!! Including as skis on his feet, & then laughed his head off as he slid all over the floor as he tried to walk. Must send you a pic one day!!

  3. mum · June 17, 2010

    Poor Cind Well darling all I can say is that as you grow older…..THIS TOO WILL PASS .YOU GET POOR EYESIGHT AND YOU ARE UNABLE TO SEE ALL THE DIRT and what you don’t see don’t bother you !

    • cyclonecindy · June 17, 2010

      So I shouldn’t be blaming you for being a shining example of cleanliness… I should actually be blaming you for my perfect vision…

      And despite your diminishing eyesight – your house is still WAY cleaner than many!!

  4. DADA · June 21, 2010

    Cindy,

    You never inherited that gene from me, so I am not feeling guilty. I think this neurotic-pedantic-clean-freak gene is only past ftom mother to daughter, but it only shows in later years. Amilie has no more grot factor than you at the same age and I am sure she has the gene too.

    I do know who you inherited the road rage and extreme vendetta/vengence gene from! Cindy, don’t get a gun licence until you have mellowed somewhat; like your dada, who despite the three chain saws and full gun cabinet is starting to become a greeny.

    • cyclonecindy · June 21, 2010

      I could use a chainsaw for the TV tonight after watching Q&A on ABC….

  5. Pingback: Another BOMB for Tom. « Cyclone Cindy

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