I got an email today from the person we hired to clean our house saying that she’s decided not to clean houses anymore. Something about being really busy and tired, etc. Which I could sympathize with. But I *did* cry when I got the email. Big ugly tears.
SHUT UP. I had my reasons.
1. I have approximately 75 million people coming to my house on Sunday to celebrate JR’s baptism and to just enjoy the last bit of summer. While I love every last one of them, I’m starting to freak out a bit. And since I was getting my house professionally cleaned on Friday, I hadn’t bothered to do a damn thing to keep things not-disgusting for days.
2. Work is insane and nonstop right now. The only breaks I get are when JR is awake, and one can’t call “chasing after a newly crawling infant who seems hell-bent on ending his life via face planting into corners” much of a break. Once he’s napping or asleep I’m frantically trying to catch up. There is a light at the end of the tunnel (i.e. VACATION IN TWO WEEKS!!!), but DUDE, this is a long-ass tunnel.
So I cried, ok?
But, luckily, I have a wonderful husband who has Spidey-sense for when I’m about the blow my top. As soon as I told him the cleaning person canceled PERMANENTLY (before she even started – she was gonna mop, guys) he was on the phone to his mother figuring out a plan B.
And now my saint of a mother-in-law will spend Thursday here taking care of the baby (rather than at her house, like she normally does on days I work) and getting our house together while he sleeps. And I hear she’ll be back on Friday, doing it again so I can get some effing work done.
I realize these are not real “problems.” I mean, I might want to punch someone who was all, “Wah wah my cleaning lady canceled woe is me.” But, guys, there is woe over here. Woe that is the result of me projecting my frustrations with other things on to this situation, but woe nonetheless.