cleaning crew....

Now I suppose it sounds like a dream come true to have a cleaning crew coming to the house. But I feel like Suzanne does when the kids in her class correct each others' tests. She thinks it is embarrassing to have the other kids see her mistakes. Multiply this by one million, and you have how I feel having a cleaning crew in my laundry room. This very laundry room was cleaned out and sorted a few months back. But it is packed with clothes. Hundreds of hanging things, hampers full of things waiting their turn, the underwear basket, which Charlotte Claire and Camille keep emptied all over the floor, the unmatched sock baskets (one for whites, one for colors), the matched socks baskets, the little girls' playclothes on the shelves, the big boys' jeans on the shelves......there is SO much in there. In a few hours, strangers will be coming in and hauling it all away to be cleaned. Then the cleaning crew will clean the walls, floor,and ceilng of the room, as well as haul away the old dryer (yay!), and do some sheetrock removal. They will then move into the kitchen and living room, cleaning surfaces and furniture. I overheard the cleaning assessor on the phone yesterday saying, "There is a LOT of stuff here. At least four days. And I am going to need help." ouch. Oh, and having a cleaning assessor in the house for 3 hours is interesting. I can't very well sit here on the computer while the kids jump on the couch.

After Mr. A. left yesterday, who is actually a very nice man, he is Chinese I believe, and has a nice accent, and seriously calls me ,"Miss Della". Anyway, after he left, (during which time I died a million deaths as he opened the all cupboard doors, apparently they clean the inside and outside of the cupboards, and looked under the couches. We all know the multitude of treasures under there. If I was smart, I would be cleaning those things out right now instead of sitting here)(I tend to put things away sort of haywire, watch out for falling peanutbutter jars at my house)....we went to the laundrymat. Which was crazy, because the younger kids had just gotten home from school, and it was time to start dinner. We had had the roast the night before, so I asked Mali to cut up the meat and put in with some water, the leftover potato and carrot chunks, and a can of crushed tomatoes. She also added a can of vegetable penne soup, and some green beens. I had four cans of those pop and fresh biscuits, so it was an easy dinner for them to have without me. And Joseph, who nicely went with me, along with Evelyn, Sonja, and Jonathan. My poor kids thought it was great fun. They learned how to put the clothes in and took turns putting the quarters in. We did only 5 loads, but put them into six dryers. They kept track of the time on the dryers and put more money in when they stopped, if the stuff was still damp. And I read magazines, and chatted with Joseph. Our friend Delandie stopped in with Samuel, they had been trading in video games at Gamestop, and knew we were there. D. is such a nice kid. Imagine stopping a t a laundrymat to visit us.

I had grand plans of what I was going to accomplish last evening, but by the time I got those two youngest in bed, I was exhausted. I feel like I have to have the place all clean for the cleaning crew, if that makes any sense. And keeping everything picked up around here goes against even the laws of gravity, it seems.

Mirelle made it safely to Connecticut. During all the fun yesterday, she had to go pick up her car and get packed and out the door. I was concerned about her going alone, I know she's a big girl, but after the last trip she took.....but she is fine. I felt so depressed about her leaving it wasn't funny. I know she has to live her own life, but she is my FRIEND. She is so domesticated, and she will kill me if she reads this, but she loves to bake and shop, and make good meals for the kids. She also loves to sing, and she sings joyful songs to the top of her lungs, and she has a wicked sense of humor, and nothing phases her. We get along grandly. Oh, we have our moments. I can say something, and she will snap at me, but I try not to take it too personally. It is just that daughter-keeping-mom-out-of-her-business-thing. And admittedly, sometimes I do tease her too much. About the wrong things. So I deserve it. Anyway, I miss her, and I am sad and lonely, believe it or not.

So here I sit, again. Mr. Assessor (oh, I am so tempted to give him a nickname) will be here in an hour, and I should be straightening things up. I have the whole couch pile to go throw on one of the beds. Yes, I should sort it and put it all away properly. I should. Maybe I will. I already sorted it. Mr. A. (see, I behaved myself) said yesterday that if I had any other clothes in the whole house that smelled even faintly of smoke to bring them out and they would wash them. The more they do, the more they get paid. They don't care if they really smell or not. So I was tempted to dump the whole couch pile on the floor and say, "These smell.." But instead I went through them, and when I came across anything that needed washing, I threw it in the cleaning pile. He said I could. The rest of them, including the things I washed yesterday, have to be put away. Mr. A wanted to inspect the whole house, because he thought it would all be "affected", and he has clearance to clean all areas "affected".....I said NO, thank you. He pleaded, and asked just to PLEASE inspect. No. I don't need them in the whole house. I don't even need the amount of cleaning he is talking about out here, just the laundry, mainly. But they are cleaning all the walls and ceilings! And floors. (that part is nice)....

When Joseph was in Norway he read this blog. I asked him yesterday if he thought it was interesting. He very nicely told me it was boring but he liked to know what was going on at home. Boring. Yeah, I could probably be done talking about clothes and laundry now.

It's weird, because I don't know who reads this, and so I can't always write what I am going through. I try to be as real as possible, because I would hate to portray myself as more capable than I am.....or as supermom, ha! But life is life, and yesterday I had a low day, feelings-wise. I have to just keep on truckin', as The Grateful Dead used to sing, and it ain't always easy. I was just sorely tempted to feel sorry for myself. Paul and I get so busy with all the little details of life that we both forget to be nice to each other. I am not saying we are mean, just an absence of niceness. And I of course, being a girl, think he just doesn't like me anymore. And then I think it is because I am fat and lazy and a huge nag, and he just can't stand me. I think he thinks he could run the house way better than I do. I think he thinks I should be home for dinner, and that he thinks going to the laundry mat is my idea of fun. Then I start thinking little thoughts about him....then I am thankful that God has always been there, always with those thoughts of truth, nudging me, and me knowing really that this is all nonsense. We just need to talk a little, and connect with each other, and put those stupid thoughts far away. Satan is the father of lies. He would like nothing better than for me to start accusing Paul. It is written in Revelations that "the accuser of our brethren has been cast down, who accused them before God, day and night..." So I am glad that I can hear the truth in all these thoughts, so that I don't end up bitter and angry and hurt about stupid things. But the temptations are still there, and it doesn't always feel good. But a good marriage is worth fighting for....

The wii doesn't work....Charlotte Claire needs a shower...and Mr. A. is coming over very very soon.....