Knackered

I am a full time working wife and a mum of 5 children.

I am knackered.  Nearly all of the time.  Knackeredness has become second nature to me and I have realised that if I am not a bit tipsy on exhaustion when I return home from work  then there is something wrong with me.

You fit knackeredness in to your day to day life.  It becomes a part of you and you learn how best to cope with it.

I fume about homework for the children because I am being very knackered, I fume about washing bundles because I am fighting knackerdness and again, the cycle that is my life continues...

A week or so ago my husband had a thought and my life changed.  Only slightly, but it was a change none the less.....

We were chatting about housework and my hatred for it.  My idea of having the cleanest, poshest house in the street was dying before my very eyes.  I wasn't cutting the mustard.  In fact, I would prefer to watch Coronation Street omnibuses than hoover.  I was constantly aware that my house was a shit hole.  Too aware.

You know that feeling when you really really cannot be arsed but you know that you really really have to do it because you will have an infestation of cockroaches if you don't......?  Well.  That.

I was coming home from work, looking around, shrugging my shoulders and sitting down and watching telly.  Then when the weekend came I was too interested in having "quality" time with the children and Jurgen and I didn't want this to be interrupted with dusting and cleaning windows.   But then it would overwhelm me and I would become proper wild and I could have buried the entire family under the newly laid patio and sat and ate cake over their "graves".  You get my point? Housework and me wasn't bonding.

I want to pretend that my perfect marriage includes Jurgen taking over the responsibility of the housework like any good husband should.  But in reality? Of course he doesn't.  He cleans the bathroom (a little bit shitly) and he potters around looking busy,  but in actual fact he is as bored and crap at it  as I am.  This doesn't make me love him any less.  Because instead he builds me walls and stuff....  Its all about the compromise.  I do the housework (badly) and he does the DIY....

So a week or so ago.  We decided we would employ a cleaner.

Eureka!

It actually was as if my life had changed.  Like I had made such an important decision that David Cameron was going to pop around for a bit of advice on how I think this country should be run.  . Because this decision...?  Well it was as if I was God.  

Now, the effort that went into employing a cleaner was a whole different ball game.  It was horrendous.  I was prepared to throw my money out there and no one wanted to catch it.  It was demoralising.... but once I had made the decision I couldn't back track.  There was no shitting way that I was going to continue to get down on hands and knees and mop the kitchen floor.  No shitting way.

In fact my mind was SOOOOOO made up that I was prepared to live in squalor UNTIL a cleaner was employed.  Because there was light at the end of my unclean tunnel.

I finally secured a cleaner two days ago.  And they start next week.

I decided that this is not going to be a stressful exercise for me.  I am not going to clean up for the cleaner to clean.  Because that would be bloody mental wouldn't it?  And I don't want to feel that pressure.  This is for me.  And about me.  Its an entirely selfish thing.

So my contract is quite lenient.   If the kitchen table is full up of shit then don't clean it.  If the kitchen sides are full up of shit - clean around it  Don't touch the children's bedrooms, because despite by lazy arsedness I must teach my children to be better than me.   To clean up after themselves.  Because that's morally right, right?

It's a whole new beginning for me.  But something that kind of feels right.,  you know?    Its hard earned money that I desperately want to spend.  I have no objection to spending it either.

I don't spend a lot on myself.  I really don't.  Those that know me will know I am not particularly fashionable.  I don't blow money on clothes and shit.  I buy what I need, when I need.  I would much much rather lavish money on my children than me.   And I am a little bit partial to an holiday.

But this is something ridiculously extravagant that is all about me.  And it has made me sleep easier at night.

And to be fair it isn't costing me as much as you would think.  But in my opinion it's money well spent.

And like my brilliantly attentive husband says..."if you are happy then I am happy".  And as I sit here basking in the glory that is my shit hole house for one more weekend....

I'll say that I am the happiest I have ever been......