A Clean House

Last year, after some raise or another, we decided to splurge on getting a housekeeper to come to our house twice a month. (I'm pretty sure that blew the entire raise and then some, but the joy of a clean house makes it worth it)  We have some  friends who have objected to hiring someone to clean the house because of its bourgeois implications and the possibility of taking advantage of others.  One might note, this same couple recently hired our housekeeper. 

In any case, last night we arrived home late and entered the back door rejoicing in the smell of pine sol as well as a variety of other clean smells.  I realized at that moment how unusual those smells in our house and felt a mixture of compuction and sloth.  We love Sue.  We love what she does to our house.  And we love how every two weeks, our house is clean and beautiful.

Of course, the night and morning before her visit, we clean our house the most.  It's a frenzy of laundry folding, toy storage, and magazine stack recycling.  Dave has noted that we really don't need a cleaner as much as the threat of a cleaner coming the next day to make us actually clean our own house.  

But then we'd miss the clean smell. And that would make me unhappy.  

And last night was ironic as I walked around loving my house and realizing that we had just had our last meeting with the architects on the remodel.  I think we've worked out most of the details and are working on a schedule to start construction Feb 28.  (YIKES)  We may be renting the house directly behind ours for the duration of the remodel, a stroke of luck after the poopie head, dog hating renters will be moving out mid-February.  The joy of their 10 surrounding dog owning neighbors was assumed after a collective cheer followed by hip shaking, tongue sticking out dancing was observed.    Na-na-na-na-boo-boo was also heard.  

The babies are also doing really well.  We had our latest OB appointment on Monday, in which I attended the OB Clinic.  I thought it was sort of a Welcome to Our OB Practice, until I found out it was a special event for high risk patients (twins, auto-immune, old hag).  Pick just one and I qualify.  Baby A's heartrate was 164 and Baby B was 168.  They are perfect.  

I, on the other hand, am huge.  I'm starting swimming again this weekend, once I find a ginormous speedo (not an oxymoron).  I will feel better about my arms if they a little more muscle and a little less flab in them.  Ditto for my fat back.  Swimming will also help my core, so I'm hoping to start swimming 3 or so days a week.  I'm not going to get any smaller; I might as well get a bit more muscular.  Of course, will anyone be able to see muscles under the layers of fat?  Good question. Don't ask it to my face.  

So, in conclusion, our house is clean, we're really going to add on to it, the babies are fine, and I'm enormous.  (Double chins have been spotted.  Easily.  Although considering that my face sort of fades into my neck without the assistance of a jaw, it's not that hard for me to get a double chin) 

You are now up to date on the mother thing household.