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Wednesday, October 29, 2014

The Last Hour

I know my partner will laugh when she reads this.
The last hour is the hour before your spouse is about to get home. It’s the hour where all the mess that was made all day NEEDS to be cleaned up. I literally spend the hour before my partner is going to arrive home cleaning, I even make the bed sometimes although now, it just seems like it doesn’t make sense because we are going to get into it about an hour after she gets home. I take an inventory of all the mess made that day, the biggest in our toddler’s room and I start running through it all like someone lit a flame to my butt.
I know she won’t care if there’s a mess.She knows how much mess our toddler can make and she knows I’ll juggle between Dana and Ava all day. So why is it that I’m running around like a maniac cleaning and making sure everything looks as if a finger never touched it?

I want her to feel like I got this. Silly as that sounds, especially since I text her throughout the day with the moments that are making me feel like I’m in an insane asylum and asking her to call me when she has a minute just to hear her soothing voice. I want her to feel like I have our household taken care of and our children as well. I can hold the fort down while she’s away.

I want to feel accomplished. Making a list and crossing off items is completely satisfying to me. Even if its simple things like send an email to blah blah blah. It makes me feel like I’m making small accomplishments when I tackle the tasks I set for myself. I never feel accomplished when people tell me what to do. It just doesn’t work the same way.

I grew up that way. My mom used to make us clean up the house every friday. We were in charge of keeping things tidy all week but on friday it was the REAL DEAL. Bed sheets off the bed, washed, everything cleaned, get the mirrors, the windows, the floors, bathroom, kitchen and all. The catch to it, it all needed to be done because dad got home at around 7. Dad was not allowed to walk into a mess or anything overwhelming. He hated it and my mom wanted to make sure he felt relaxed walking in to begin his weekend.

Some days I just can’t go through with my last hour ritual. I’m too exhausted or too busy to actually get it done and I warn my partner before she comes home even though she says it doesn’t matter but I’m happy that when she gets home she’ll follow through with my ritual before we head to bed.

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