When we first moved in here in 2005 my kids were 4 and 2. Jacob was in preschool five afternoons a week but other than that, nothing. No swimming lessons, no hockey, no dance class, nothing, nada, zilch. It was easy to keep my brand new 2400 square foot house clean despite my mother-in-law’s concerns to the contrary. I dusted constantly, vacuumed daily. Never was there a thing out of place. We lived in a Metropolitan Home photo shoot ready house. I was damned proud of myself.

Little did I know that my lack of existence beyond the four exterior walls of our new housing structure were what kept me living this life of tidy. How could I expect that a blossoming social life for not only the kids but also me was about to get in the way of my happy little world? I was not expecting to suddenly be so busy that I would step over a rotting carrot in the front hall and think oh who cares???*

*there has never been nor will there ever be a rotting carrot in my front hall. In my fridge, mind you, well that’s plausible.

It’s not for lack of trying. I make every attempt to maintain a degree of perfection. At this point we’re talking about a ratio of 1:a billion in favor of more imperfection than perfection and while intellectually I go, that’s okay, you have a life and a life is good. Because it is. I like having friends and taking my kids to dance and hockey respectively. I like the social circle we’re a part of. I like that when I turn forty later this year there will be a lot of great people we can invite to my party.

But I hate not having a clean house.

We’re talking about getting someone in. Every two weeks or whatever. Which will absolutely send my siblings and their spouses off the deep end because hello, I don’t have a job. Why can’t I clean my own house? Princess that I am. Only I would prefer to clean my own house but I’d prefer to have a life and write a novel more. No one aims to have their eulogist brag that-

good old jane, she kept a damn fine house. thank you for coming.

I don’t want to be poor old jane. I want to live in technicolor! And 3D! Three dimensional technicolor! Whatever that means!

For now I think I’ll train the kids to do some of the jobs I really don’t like. I’ve already got Dan doing the dishwasher because I’d sooner poke my eyes out. Now if Jake will wash the floors and Madison can vacuum…that’s a step in the right direction.

And I’ll need someone to fan me with grape leaves while I’m eating bonbons and perusing the entertainment magazines. (raises wine glass for refill)