With my Mint, Now I have Guilt

So when I dreamed about hiring someone to clean my house, I wasn't really aware this is what it would be like... of course I didn't think I would be at home not working when they came, so maybe that is the real problem.

I have a long history of uncomfortable standoffs with cleanliness. Much of it could probably be traced back to my mother and her sense of well being with a clean house. I can remember many adolescent moments where she would insist I clean my room and I would insist she close the door. I don't remember winning many of these arguments, I am guessing my mom remembers not winning either, so begins the standoff.

After I moved out of the dorm and into an apartment of my own, started my first job, started to get a real grown up life I remember thinking that I was trying to find my level of cleanliness. Whenever I had a roommate my standards seemed to rise, it was easier to keep it clean with some level of peer pressure around, but when I was on my own I was pretty unconcerned with clutter and had a mild tolerance for dirt.

Then I met my husband, at the time potential husband. He is what I am learning is a regular guy when it comes to cleanliness. He lived in a house with 3 other guys when we started dating and I remember refusing to spend the night at his house because of the dark green mold taking over the shower and the general level of squalor in the kitchen. I couldn't understand how he could live there, and apparently he didn't like it much either as he practically moved in to my duplex where I lived alone (and admits that that house was particularly terrible). His living situation seemed to be Cold War standoff where they were allowing an escalation of dirt and would see who could take it the longest. Also, they knew that Bill, one of the roommates who was out of town much of the time. had a low tolerance for filth and when he came back he'd clean it up.

So, we're young, we're in love, we've shacked up together and we are working out how to work it out. Things started out well where I had high standards and he tried and failed to meet them and then I got to take the moral high ground and insist that his definition of clean wouldn't meet the minimum health codes. I think almost every fight we have had in our 11 year relationship was related to cleaning or sparked by some cleaning/sharing of duties situation. What eventually happened is that in an effort to meet half way/share the work and take advantage of the post-feminist world where we can expect our husbands to carry half the load, I had to lower my standards. He raised his so that dishes aren't left in the sink for days, but I lowered mine so that I wasn't doing everything and then feeling bitter and resentful.

So what does this compromise mean? It means that I live in a house which is livable, but by no means perfect. There's usually a collection of dishes waiting patiently on the side of the sink to be put into the dishwasher and the laundry takes sometimes up to a week to get all the way through the process. Ryan and I have pretty civil conversations about who's doing too much and too little, and we have a well established definition of both.

Which brings me to the housecleaners who now come weekly and make my house shine. They have removed the crumbs under the glass on top of the wooden countertops. They dust the pictures, blinds, and baseboards. And the bathroom smells like sunshine on a weekly basis (with three boys in the house, that doesn't last long).

So what's the problem? Now I am at home all day and I spend a good deal of my time feeling guilty because my house IS clean and I wasn't the one who did it, not like I was going to do it, but still.