Let there be light

Sometimes the simple things can make your day.

In my case, it is the installation of new lights. This should have been done long ago, about four years ago, in fact. But it is one of the many things that we have put off.

Me: We really should get those lights installed.

Dear husband: Yep.

Me: We bought four lights a couple of years ago and there they sit in the closet, gathering dust.

Dear husband: Yep.

Me: We should really find a good electrician.

Dear husband: Yep.

And that is where the conversation would end: me wishing for lights, dear husband agreeing with me, and absolutely no action happening on either of our parts to get the job done. And the lights would sit, in the boxes they came in. (However, the boxes came in handy a couple of years ago as dear husband used them them to prop up baseboards when he was doing some painting).

Four years, a wedding and one child later, we finally got the lights installed today. In addition to the four we purchased four years ago, we got another three. And we even got the electrician to fix a couple of switches in the house. Now when I go to the bathroom, I don't have to use a dimmer switch. I just press the toggle switch and voila! Light! (Yes, I had a dimmer switch in my bathroom. Don't have a clue as to why as it was there when dear husband purchased the house).

Goodbye old chandelier. Goodbye dust collecting ceiling fans. Hello new lights. For the last half hour I've been admiring my new lights, turning them on and off. I can't wait for dear husband to come home so he can admire them, too.

Dishpan hands

Other than a maid or the over use of my dishwasher, is there any solution to dishpan hands?

I don't exactly have dishpan hands, but every time I turn around I'm doing dishes. Dishes from breakfast. Dishes from lunch (and there seems to be a lot of them) and again dishes at dinner. Pots, pans, plastic cups and dishes, knives and anything else needs to be wash. I seem to be chief bottle washer in this joint.

Dear husband does his best. We do take turns unloading the dishwasher, another task I detest, but there are only so many times you can ask your significant other if he doesn't mind putting away dishes when you are overdue for your turn.

Me: Can you unload the dishwasher?

DH: No, can you? I did it last time.

Me: Pleeze? Pretty Pleeeeeeeeze? I'm tired. I always do it.

DH: Okay (audible grumbles in the background).

So yeah. Dishes. They are a pain. Have to live with them, can't live without them. I wish someone would invent self cleaning dishes. Or maybe I'll win the lottery one day and hire someone who is devoted entirely to washing my dishes.

A solution for mess clean up. But the question is: do they actual exist?

A couple of weeks ago on Coronation Street, Norris and Mary gave Emily a pair of floor polishing flip flops as a gift. Emily, a widow who could be in her late 60s or early 70s, wasn’t overly impressed with the gift. And who would blame her? She could break a hip if she attempted to polish her floors with those flip flops. She could be going around the coffee table, take a wrong turn near the buffet, slip and find herself right on her backside.

But for a mom like me, those are the perfect gift. Yes, they are ugly as sin and they’d be hard walk on the beach with, but they’d be perfect to clean up sippy cup messes and general spills. I’m tired of sippy cups leaking. I’m tired of feeling like I need to mop the floor once a day because darling daughter has dumped her strawberries onto the floor for the umpteenth time. I’m tired of mopping said messes up with my socks because I’m too lazy to get a cloth out, get on my hands and knees and clean it up myself.

The messes never end. If it isn’t peas being smashed into the rug or milk pooling underneath darling daughter’s booster seat, I’m dropping something on the kitchen floor. And there is only so many miracles the Dyson can perform. I know it is a little early to ask, but Santa, can I have a pair of floor polishing flip flops for Christmas? Because it would make my life a lot easier. And take some stress off my joints.

I welcome productivity

The last several days have very productive ones. I've made dinner every day this week. I've tackled laundry. I've vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom and washed the floors. I've dug out the Christmas decorations out of my very packed storage closet. I started to put together darling daughter's playroom, putting up wall statics and rearranging items. I finally got around to delivering the two garbage bags of aluminum cans to my next door neighbour. (Several months ago, she asked us to collect our cans for her. I think they go to charity). I've ordered photos for my Christmas cards. I figured how how to magic loop. Now the sleeve of a sweater I'm knitting doesn't look so sad. I've put together darling daughter's Christmas stocking. All I have to do now is wrap her gifts.

I welcome productivity. It makes me feel so productive. I'm hoping this trend will continue because I have quite the list I need to accomplish before Christmas.

Horrifying but fascinating at the same time

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I'm sure we can all think of things we do in our life that we do the same over and over again, hoping the results will be different, but they never are.

In my household, one of the things that comes to mind that fits that definition is vacuuming. The only carpet we have is on the stairs leading upstairs and downstairs. Every time dear husband vacuums the stairs, I have high hopes that they will be clean. While they look relatively less dingy and grimy when he puts the vacuum away, they are still dingy and grimy.

Well, this week we bit the bullet, laid out several hundred dollars and bought a Dyson. Before making our purchase this week, I always wondered Dyson lived up to the hype. Well, I am impressed.Very impressed. The above photo is what the Dyson pulled out of the carpet that covers both stairs.

We were both horrified and fascinated at the dirt in the bin. (Dear husband remarked that he always thought the stairs were "clean" when he was done vacuuming. Obviously they weren't). Every time I vacuum with the Dyson it is like a science experiment. I'm always wondering what it will manage to suck up. I even vacuumed the keyboard of my laptop. Along with the dirt, it sucked up a couple of keys that I had to rescue from the bin.

I'm not surprised that the Dyson was able to pull that much crap out of the carpet. We have laminate flooring throughout the house and controlling the dust bunnies that I often find rolling underneath the beds and crib is an ongoing task. I don't want to give the impression that the Dyson was able to restore my carpet to its original state (it is cheap carpet and it is looking quite worn), but my stairs are looking incredibly less dingy and grimy.

I want to stress that we didn't buy the Dyson to clean the cheap carpet on our stairs. We bought it for dust control. In particular to control dust mites as well as to eliminate their habitat. After cleaning the stairs and the downstairs foyer, I tackled our mattress. For those who have dust mite allergies, one way to control those allergies is trying to eliminate the source: dust mites as well as their fecal matter. Unfortunately, humans attract dust mites. They feed on flakes of the skin we shed. (I know disgusting). Obviously, they flourish in areas where we spend a lot of time, like our bedrooms.

I won't get into too much detail of what the Dyson was able to pick up from the mattress, but I was amazed and disgusted at the same time. Honestly, I should have kept the plastic bag the mattress came in.

Buying a Dyson was a good investment for us. Not only does it control dust, it almost makes cleaning fun.

Why can't the house tidy itself?

As a stay at home mom, I feel like I should be spending my days cleaning my house from top to bottom when I am not caring for darling daughter.. But if I'm lucky to get a load of laundry washed, dried, folded and put away in the course of a 12-hour period, I consider that a successful day. The chores on my ever-growing list aren't getting done. In fact, they are piling up. I've got a pile of papers that have yet to be shreaded. I have clutter that needs to be decluttered. I have a pile of household items that are slated to Goodwill but are just sitting in my basement. I have floors to swiffer. I have dishes to wash. Yet, I have no motivation to do so, not even when darling daughter is sleeping. Lately, when she goes for her naps, I'll sneak out to the back yard and read. Simply put, I just don't have the energy to do housework as it is never ending. There will always be dishes to wash, clothes to put away, clutter that needs to be dealt with, but summer only comes once a year. I guess my housework can always wait until September.

Copyright 2009 -- Valerie McLaughlin -- All rights reserved

The never ending rinse cycle

One of my morning chores is emptying out the dishwasher. It is more of a ritual now because I do it every day. Emptying out the dishwasher must be one of the boring and tedious tasks known to mankind. Every time I turn around I'm unloading the dishwasher and stacking its contents back into my kitchen cupboards. If the opportunity presents itself, I ask dear husband for his assistance in completing this task. He will help, but he too complains.

Well, imagine my surprise this morning when I opened the dishwasher and discovered the granular crystals were still in the dispenser. Grrr! I did a lot of silent cursing to myself. I blamed the problem on the dispenser door. I'm not a big fan of granular crystals, but I'm trying to use up a box of Sunlight dishwashing detergent before opening my mega can of detergent tablets. Last night I had to sweep away some the granular crystals away before I was able to close the door. Although the dishes looked cleaned, I decided that I should put them through the wash cycle again.

This time I used one of the tablets. Once the wash cycle was done, I expected the dishes to be clean. They were, but the little tablet was stuck to the dishwasher door. WTF?!? All of a sudden it wasn't the dispenser door that was at fault. It was mine. I had put darling daughter's plastic insert of her high chair tray in front of the door, not along the side of the rack where I usually put it. The insert was preventing the dispenser door from fully opening. Oops. My bad.

As they say, third time's a charm. I flicked the tablet back into the dispenser, closed the door and hit the start button again. You don't have to tell me that David Suzuki would be disappointed about the energy and resources I wasted in trying to get my dishes sparkling clean. Actually, I was cringing when I pressed the start button, however, there was no way I was washing all those dishes by hand.

This little episode got me thinking about how dependent I am on my dishwasher. The dishwasher is a glorious thing. Despite my complaining and whining when cleaning the damn thing out, I don't think I could live without it, especially when making baby food. The dishwasher is truly a lifesaver in this modern day and age.