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(Everything looks picture perfect from the street, but once you're inside it's a whole other story.)

Thursday, September 6, 2012

A Tale of Two Floors

I used to cringe in disgust when a Swiffer duster commercial would come on.  

Me (I would say to my single, childless self out loud): "Ugh!  Who lets their house get that dusty?  Seriously?!  Wouldn't they notice the layer of dust accumulating on their dark furniture and floors before it got like that?"

You know who lets their house get that dusty?  Me.  And anyone else with small children and a husband who has an amazing super power.  He is able to ignore messes, out of place toys, and dust. 

Well, let me clarify just a bit.  The whole house isn't a dusty mess.  My house has 2 zones: the private zone and the public zone.  Kind of like the West Wing and East Wing of the White House.  One part is on display for consumption, while the other part is where we "let out hair down" and dust, clothes baskets, and toys roam free.  Our home's private zone, traversed only by folks who share my last name (maiden or married), shows the "real" business of the house.  It also shows the problem that arises when one person multitasks (even though there are two persons of age in the house who could do any or all of the following): cleaning staff, CEO, teacher, referee, disciplinarian, cook, entertainer, personal trainer...you get the picture.

Friends who are "single-floor guests" have one opinion of me and my Sally Home-maker-ness.  I'm "so organized," and amazingly, I somehow find time to supervise messy art projects while cooking dinner and catching up with everyone in the house - all at the same time!  Here's a hint: It's because I've completely ignored the creeping funk going on upstairs so that my downstairs looks spotless and I can focus on everything that's happening right then and there.  To my guests, however, I appear to be "that Mom."  You know the type (and I truly aspire to be one or close to it)...Makes everything from scratch--kids never have a hair out of place--kids wear ironed clothes--she wears ironed clothes--manicured--pedicured--hair dyed just right--PTA President--preschool room mother--lawn looks perfect--not a speck of dust to be found on any level of her house--light from Heaven shines brighter on her and her house than on anyone else's--mom.  

Let me tell you something.  That type of mom has a cook, a cleaning service, and a clone!

My home's public zone (read that carefully!) makes it look like I've got it all together, but head upstairs to the private zone and you'll be swallowed up by the fluffy dust!  Yes.  Did you know that when dust is left to its own devices, it takes on a fluffy appearance?  Like a flower that wilts to signal it needs water, the dust at my house takes on a cloud-like appearance to signal to me that it's time to get out the Swiffer duster and Pledge.  I get to re-enact that same Swiffer duster commercial that used to disgust me.  Now I say, "Amen, sister" as it plays.  Overflowing laundry baskets, full gift bags from 2 Christmases ago, piles of woodworking magazines, books I refuse to get rid of, drifts of plastic bags just waiting their turn to line our trashcans, and a white layer of fluffy dust coating all of it...that's what my lucky husband and I get to see on a nightly basis...and morning too I guess.  Thank goodness we're both too bleary-eyed to notice much in the morning (thanks to a certain daughter who, at 20 months, still doesn't sleep through the night).  

It's a tale of two cities home over here...the best of times downstairs, and the worst of times upstairs.  The real me vs. the me I want you to think I am.  Maybe some day, 5 years from now I guess, I'll find a balance between private and public, best and worst.  Until then, I'll just continue to get my bi-annual pedicure and manicure, and whip out the Swiffer duster when I know you're comin' over.   

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