Tag Archives: cleaning


7 Jun

My sister got my hopes up yesterday.  Did she do the same to yours?

I really thought she was going to tell me some magical hint for keeping my floors clean.  It’s a continually battle around here, and I can use all the strategic advice I can get.

Last night we had a few friends over to talk about a book (it’s just something we do, you’re welcome to join us) and before they arrived I glanced at the floor and thought, “Hey, it’s not too shabby, I probably don’t even need to sweep, but shoot, I’ve got another 17 minutes before they get here, and the babies are already safely caged away in their cribs for the night, why not?”

So I hauled out the broom, refereed a fight between the oldest three about who got to hold the dust pan – it’s a major honor, let me tell you – and swept together a pile of crumbs, and wrappers, and seeds, and sticks, and gunk, and dirt, and stuff that would practically be enough to start a small garden plot.

That was the result of what I thought was “not too shabby.”

In repentance of my poor floor care, today I have a renewed interest in keeping the areas underfoot free of grime.  And so, in light of that, and in response to my sister’s disappointingly unHeloisish post, I give you this household hint:

If you let the spaghetti rest for at least two hours before attempting to clean the area around the table, dried pasta pops right up with no hassle.

I decline to comment about the Froot Loop(s).

Love’s a Mess.

18 Aug

I’ve decided to start a new segment. This is it: Things I Love. Okay, okay. I know. Cliche!!!! (an aside: I don’t know how to add an accent mark. Please ignore that typo and pronounce the word correctly anyway. Thanks. Also, if you know how to add the accent mark, I would certainly listen to your advice. Aside over.) I get it, but maybe you’d like to know a bit more about my sister and I? Maybe? Can we shovel out just a little more? You bet. And to highlight the mushy gushiness of this particular cliched (ignore the  typo) segment I’ve decided on the addition of sacchariny  pink as it’s banner color. Not that there is ANYTHING artificial about the following sweetness. It’s all real, I tell you, and I LOVE it.

Today’s Thing I Love is brought to you by my Olders (I have “Olders”, “Youngers”, “Bigs”, “Littles”, “Middles”, “Talls”, “Shorts”, “Sillies”, “Whinies”, and endless other classifications for my children. Sometimes they’re just “Brothers”. Sometimes they’re just “The Children”. And sometimes I actually refer to them by their Christian names. It’s a mood thing.) So, this morning those two (the Olders) straggled into my bedroom and heaved their sleep-limp bodies onto my bed. Nothing abnormal here. There they rested for a brief moment before Owen’s head catapulted skyward, “Hey, Joe. Do you want to surprise Mom and Dad?” (I think they thought I was sleeping. I pretty much was. Only my ears had awakened.) Then they shot out of our room faster than I could say “Wha…?”. At this point I was certain that they were going to surprise us by getting dressed, putting their jammies on over their clothes, and then pretending that they refuse to get dressed. We’ve fallen for that one on more than 6 occasions. Timeless humor, that. We went on with morning routine. I pretended that my Littlest still needed me so that I could remain immobile for awhile. My better (and more responsible) half prepared for the day. We were then invited out into the rest of our home. For what? Did we see shirt collars poking out of Batman Jams? Nope. Not even. Those boys were fully dressed. Their room was clean. The kitchen was clean. The hallway was clean. The living room was clean. ALL OF THEM CLEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Best surprise ever. I have assured them of this countless times and will continue to do so indefinitely.

I always love The Children. I rarely love the mess.