You know the age-old saying...Good help is hard to find.
I know this one for sure. I mean, I have had the worst, most lazy and unappreciative maid for about 32 years now. She even back talks and uses foul language. Ugh, I am not quite sure what I am going to do with her, but I keep thinking that one day she will finally get it and become useful. We shall see.
Kidding guys - I mean, kinda. I guess my maid is somewhat helpful sometimes. Remember the time that she shared all those cleaning secrets with us in this post? (Confessions of a Housewife) Yeah, that was a pretty good one. Every now and then the maid rocks my house with awesomeness like that. And sometimes she surprises me with tasks that she would never tackle like in this confession. (Confession of a Bad Housekeeper) But oh well, I guess she is worth what she gets paid.
But today, I made a huge discovery. While yes, good help is hard to find, it is also relative. How do you define good? Today I discovered that with a few changes in my standards I found good help. And help that was actually motivated and excited about the job. And that word "good" suddenly had a new definition. Kind of like how I define "need" and "want." I've got it all figured out y'all. No worries. Methods to my madness.
How you ask? Well, I found help in this little guy.
I mean, look at how proud he is to be cleaning the walls with a laundry sheet!
PS - that is a trick I found on the old Pinterest. Supposedly if you rub down your baseboards (or walls in this case, I certainly wasn't going to stop him) with a dryer sheet dust won't collect on them as quickly. Well, we are about to find out if it applies to dog hair as well. Because, I tend to have lots of that. And don't get me started on the dust. I blame the HVAC vents and duct system. It certainly has nothing to do with my maid and her abilities. I mean, I have cobwebs growing on things after a week.
Now, don't get me wrong - I am not new to the world of cobwebs, but usually they are products of months of not cleaning. Not weeks. See, so it has to be the house. Good ole petri dish West Clover. I really do love you, we seem to just be having a little lover's quarrel.
So, today while this sweet little girl laid in my bed with a fever and a sore throat (seriously, not kidding...at least one kid, if not both, has been sick every week since we moved in this place) missing out on the fun of kindergarten,
sweet baby Nash and my maid were rocking and rolling through the main floor. I am afraid to admit that I think I may be sore tomorrow from polishing the floors. Oh my. How pathetic is that? I went through 2 bottles of Orange Glow (you can laugh, but that stuff is amazeballs on old, worn hardwoods) and my floors finally look like they may have been loved for a bit. Bless West Clover and its neglected state.
That little boy just melts each and every inch of my soul. (Haha, I just noticed Lucy in the picture above, up and ready to run as soon as Nash turns her way with the broom) He still is not into wearing clothes (duh, you saw the pictures) but the boy LOVES shoes. My sweet baby Jay.
Off to bed I go feeling all Cinderella (ante fairy godmother time). Now to just figure out how to wake up and put the birds and mice to work. Just kidding, I don't have mice. Well, not that I am aware of...