Thursday, November 20, 2008

Help Wanted- PT Domestic Goddess



After two weeks of not working at all yet still getting absolutely nothing accomplished (except for the lack of major bodily harm befalling the baby- now that he has become mobile I consider this no small feat), I have decided that it is time to embrace my inner domestic goddess. No, there has been no hormonal "must clean... must have order..." shift in me as I had hoped. As all my friends were rushing to sign up for Home-Ec in high school, what with its easy 'A' and baked goods, I was the kid sitting in elective calculus (which I still find fascinating). Day to day routines and attention to detail are not my strong points. My desire to change has been brought about for two reasons: 1. After my illness, if someone does happen to come in my apartment, there is some possibility that they would call Child Protective Services on me, and 2. I am really sick of hearing Eric complain all the time that I don't do anything. Not that #2 would normally inspire me to change- actually quite the opposite. However, I have reached a new level of maturity where I have learned that making him happy makes him shut up, and one whiny baby is all I feel like putting up with on any given day.

So I go about trying to embrace my inner domestic goddess, but so far, it hasn't gone so well. It turns out that she is quite confrontational, and perhaps slightly mentally retarded. The initial conversation looked something like this:

Me: Hello, um, inner domestic goddess? Are you there?
IDG: No, I'm vacationing in the South of France. Where else would I be?
Me: I think we should start deep cleaning the apartment, and planning a dinner
menu.
IDG: No.
Me: What do you mean, no?
IDG: I'm busy.
Me: Doing what?
IDG: I don't like you. Go play Tetris and leave me alone.
Me: Can't you just help me out a little bit?
IDG: I'm not a day laborer.
Me: If you don't help me, you are fired.
IDG: *silence*
Me: I mean it!
IDG: *more silence*
Me: Hello? Hello?

Apparently my inner domestic goddess is angry at me for keeping her locked away for, oh, about 27 years, and the years of neglect have rendered her talents useless. I would like to replace her with Merry Maids and perhaps a part-time personal chef, but these luxuries are not in my Stay-at-home-mom budget. So instead, I have just joined Flylady.net. It is a website geared for people like me! How fabulous! It teaches you how to clean and organize your home and keep it that way. In a nutshell, it turns us hopeless creative types into Martha Stewart! Well, ok, maybe Martha Stewart's redheaded stepchild, but I'll take it. I'm ashamed to admit that I almost teared up reading the welcome letter. Stupid hormones. Fly Lady promises there is hope for me, so if I can keep up with the program, perhaps in a year from now I'll be sitting in my tidy living room playing with my well-behaved toddler as a homemade treat bakes in the oven. If not, there is always Careerbuilder.com and daycare.

3 comments:

Sweetest Girl in the World said...

You're lucky you're only needing part-time help... hear we've been looking for full-time Domestic goddess since day 1.

Good luck with all that!! Keep the posts coming... You crack me up and I need the laughs!!

*~*Rachael*~* said...

haha! I think I lost my domestic goddess after TJ was born. I no longer have any desire to clean. It looks like a bomb went off in my kitchen. I sleep. Often. I used to bake all the time. Not so much now. I had this uber-nesting-phase when I was pregnant. I had to clean all the time. There was always some type of brownie or cake in the kitchen. Now I'd rather sit here and watch Days of Our Lives.

TheFeministBreeder said...

oh, being a redhead, I just love the "redheaded stepchild" jokes. And people wonder why I spent the the last 15 years dying that red hair any other color in the world except red. That is, until I realized that people go into Aveda and pay $500 to get MY hair color...

There is nothing wrong with not being a domestic goddess. I'm not! And I wouldn't want to be! Okay, I do love to organize crap when I have extra time, and I like to decorate too, but ONLY when it suits me, and only because it's fun - because I'm Type-A like that. If you saw the scuz on my bathroom sink, you'd probably be horrified. But, since it's MY sink, and not the one in the guest bathroom, it will stay nasty until I get a wild hair up my ass and decide to clean it.

Be who you are: calculus nerdyness and all!