Zen and the Art of Motherhood

Does anyone else out there do this?

First, let me say that, yes I know, I'm very blessed. We have a cleaner/miracle worker that comes over and makes my house look decent-- at least one morning a week. Unfortunately, my organizationally challenged clan can undo all her handiwork faster than a speeding bullet. Fearing the inevitable, I've actually been known to well up a bit when I see her making her exit.

Its because of our unkempt ways that I do the following: I run around the house like a madwoman on cleaning mornings. I scoop up toys, round up laundry, gather clean sheets and basically do everything in my power to clear a path so as not to hinder her glorious efforts.

All the while my family watches. Actually they watch and chuckle. Then again, most times its more than a chuckle -- mass hysteria has been known to ensue. In part because of the irony of my actions, and in part because they take some perverse pleasure in watching me scurry to and fro in a frantic state.

Even the cleaner has been known to sport a smirk or two when she's spied me in action. Why? Either because she's in on the joke with the rest of my family. Or maybe she's secretly thinking, "Give up lady. This place is never gonna be neat."

I tend to think the latter is the most plausible explanation. But either way, why is it I care how my house looks when the cleaner comes over? Or the refrigerator repair guy or the plumber or whatever worker enters our humble abode. My husband doesn't. My kids sure don't. So what is it about me that feels instantly judged if it has that, shall I say, lived in look? I'm not sure, but here I am, the night before cleaning day, already mapping out my strategy for tomorrow. Some habits are too hard to break I guess.