I loved having her come every other week and clean my house top to bottom and it was a necessary luxury for us. For me. My sanity needed a cleaning woman's help.
You can read about me having to let her go here. I was very traumatized.
When push came to shove though, I was abrubtly shoved into the rubber gloves and Clorox of attempting to clean my house while chasing a rice dumping toddler and running little boys from one activity to another. Turns out all this is very challenging. Alex's promise to help with the cleaning was difficult for him to make good on, since you have to actually be home to help clean. Not too much cleaning happens before six am and after 10 pm.
Here is what happens when I am forced to clean myself. Not good.
Our weekend cleaning sessions essentially turned in to an exercise of how cranky can Mommy be while trying to scrub a toilet and Daddy pretends to know where the vacuum is stored? Turns out very. Very, very crannky.
So with the slight break in our financial valley, I quickly snached up the new love of my life...San Juana. I love her immensely. Possibly more than Alex.
Last Monday she came a little before nine and left close to 10 pm. She cleaned the bottom of our bathroom trashcans, climbed on a ladder to get the tops of everything in our house, she lined up shoes and tweezers and remotes, and left a sprinkle of joy on everything she touched. I had to stop myself from grabbing her into a fierce embrace every time I walked by her. She was just making everything so pretty, and she didn't ask me to help at all.
Stella also fell in love with San Juana, but due to an inability to pronounce any two part words, renamed her Juan. I'm not sure Juan is a favorable name for a Hispanic woman, but San Juana was very nice about it. She also was very nice when Stella chased her down with a diaper and package of wipes yelling, "Juan! Poo poo! Juan!!!!! Poo!!"
I didn't allow San Juana to change Stella's stinky diaper, much to Stella's dismay, but I loved that San Juana simply smiled at Stella and asked her if she wanted to come live with her. Could this cleaning Goddess actually take my children too? She is a dream.
I'm honestly not really sure we can afford to keep her, but I also don't know if we can afford to not keep her. This past week I have kept up with the laundry, vaccuumed when needed, wiped off counters and cooked all our meals...and that's the end of what I can handle. I can not handle toilets and scrubbing and mopping. I need a moment without my children, primarily a moment without Stella, to unleash necessary cleaning measures for this crew.
But when would I read all my magazines and watch my stories?
(Kidding. I actually have a stack of unread magazines mocking me daily, but they are pretty low on the list of priorities currently. And I haven't watch a soap opera since 1993.)
(Fine, I set my DVR to record Guiding Light until it went off the air 3 years ago and I possibly cried when it ended, but no soaps since then. I'm a busy woman.)
The truth is though, I feel guilty. I find myself explaining how much I need San Juana to anyone and everyone who will stand still within ear shot. I want people to know that I'm not lazy, I'm not spoiled, I am simply in over my head currently...and I don't like it.
I know a lot of people have someone clean there house, but a lot don't. I feel like I genuinely need it to feel a sense of peace in my home with these children. I shouldn't even ask, but am I nuts?
I'm linking up to Shell's Pour Your Heart Out. Check it out here.