Feelin' Guilty

When I was growing up I remember we had a "cleaning lady" that came to the house once every other week. I'll never forget the scent of lemon and pine from the dusting spray and clean wood floors. A clean house smells and feels really good! I didn't think of it at the time, but I'm so glad my mom did that for herself. She had three of us to feed, entertain, transport, discipline, mend, cuddle, the list goes on. That's a lot of work! I'm proud of her for giving herself the gift of having someone else clean her house every other week so she had one less thing on her VERY long to-do list. And how cool of my dad to understand why she would want it and supporting her need to have a little help.
All of that being said, I'm feeling a little guilty right now. At this very moment, I have a wonderful cleaning lady vacuuming my bedroom. In fact, just a moment ago I actually did the feet lift that one does when someone needs to vacuum under where they're sitting. That felt incredibly lazy. I swear my days are usually very busy with the baby, and the thought of actually being able to accomplish some cleaning, let alone cleaning the entire house, is laughable. I've obviously done it, but it usually takes at least 3 days to finish because I manage to get half of a bathroom done by the time Punkies wakes from her nap. However, today is throwing me for a bit of a loop and making me feel super guilty. I think Punkies is having a growth spurt or something because she took a super long nap this morning (almost 2 hours) and is down again for a second nap that has already been another 45 minutes. Honestly this never happens! Of course it is happening today, the first time ever that the Hubs and I have hired someone to help with the cleaning. And I am actually finding myself lost for things to do . . . dare I say, even a little bored!
About midway through the first of Punkies's naps, I gave myself mental slap across the face, and said to myself, "Self, get your act together pronto! There are things you've been wanting to do and now you have the time to do them! Think . . . . what are all of the items you've been meaning to check off your list?" I decided it may help to wander aimlessly around my kitchen while I gathered my thoughts. I could shower. . . but no, I'm just going to get sweaty on a walk later. I could update Punkies's baby book. Nah, I'd rather do that over a glass of wine tonight. I could brush the cat; Lord knows that would save me from having to swiffer the floors within two days of all this beautiful cleaning. On the other hand, no thanks. Hmmmm. (Here's where I grabbed a handful of wheat thins and munched on them while I continued wasting time "thinking".) Until finally it hit me. I decided to do something that I haven't done in roughly, um, five months and 13 days. I picked up my US magazine, grabbed a diet coke from the fridge, and sprawled across my bed for some me time. It was the best 15 minutes that I've had for a LONG time. Of course by the time I finished stewing over what to do first and finally gave in to my idea of doing absolutely nothing, the baby was awake and ready to rock and roll. Oh well, it was 15 minutes more free time than I've had in ages. But it was also just enough time to make me feel absurdly guilty that someone else was cleaning my house.
I'm not sure what I'm hoping for here. I find myself searching for validation from friends, asking if they have house cleaners and crossing my fingers that they do. Though each time one of them tells me that they do, the relief is only temporary, because I can't help thinking of the olden days when women did it all! I mean, those ladies were popping out babies by the dozen, churning their own butter and washing clothes outside in a basin and then hanging them on the line to dry. How is that even possible? Have I mentioned lately that I barely find time to brush my teeth? I don't even wear underwear half the time because it's one less thing to wash. (Alright, also because I wear yoga pants every single day, and I truly believe underwear do not belong under those things. We've all seen the lines they create. Embarrassing.) I fight a daily internal battle between wanting to be a capable, earthy mom who uses cloth diapers, makes her own baby food, creates amazing tactile development toys from sand, paper towel rolls and puddy, and feeling so exhausted that I let the diapers pile on top of the pail because I haven't taken the overflowing bag out in weeks, blowing the cat hair off a pacifier for the fourth time after it's fallen on the floor because it keeps Punkies busy, and being willing to pay someone big bucks to clean my house so I don't have to do it myself. Whew, I'm worn out just writing about my internal struggles.
Yet as I sit here sipping my organic Mother's Milk tea, which tastes horrible but helps lactation, with a happy, warm, sleepy baby snoozing downstairs, the dishes from my homemade dinner drying on the rack and the smell of lemon pledge and Murphy's Oil Soap wafting through the air, I know I'm doing my best for my daughter, my husband and myself. The Hubs even reassured me tonight when he said, "Ya know, if having someone clean the house every couple of weeks gives you an hour to sit down or do something for yourself, that's worth it, because you deserve that." I'm gonna take that reassurance and keep it in my back pocket for the next time I'm feeling guilty. And though I commend the mamas from the olden days, I have to admit that I'm pretty grateful for my washer and dryer, the grocery store down the street and my fabulous cleaning lady who leaves my house smelling good and allows me to keep up to date on the latest with the Kardashians, because let's be honest, that does make me feel a little more like myself these days, and that feeling is priceless.