|don't you garden in sandals? really letting you guys glimpse real life here.|
It’s summer and I’m pretty sure my floors have never been messier. We discovered that the popcorn ceilings in our living and dining room had asbestos, so for the last three weeks, they’ve been scraped and refinished and painted. I was actually thrilled to find out because we could get them removed without my husband telling me “they’re fine” in all their yellowy dinginess. While all the dangerous stuff is gone, there is still dust from the repairs. I also decided (brilliantly) that we should simultaneously bulldoze the front yard. So, as we slowly give the yard a makeover, I track dirt into the house about seventeen times a day.
Oh, and Eloise just started crawling.
When my oldest was my only, I swept at least twice a day. Not a stray crumb in sight. The irony is that there wasn’t even anyone around to make a mess. As we’ve added to our family, and are now six kids deep, I don’t have as much time for sweeping. And even if I did, I would probably have to clean my floors eleven times a day to keep up with seven sets of feet and snack crumbs being trailed all over. I am not kidding, I’ve considered getting a dog just to clean under my table three times a day.
But then, as timing aligned perfectly with the repairs and the yard makeover and the crawling baby, we got a bObsweep PetHair vacuum cleaner. It’s my kids new best friend - they are seriously obsessed. Can we talk about how this is the perfect invention for our family? It cleans the floors (we don't actually have a pet, but this model vacuums AND mops and sanitizes, you guys), it can be automatic or you can control it by remote. So, I can set up a timer for it to clean while we’re gone, or I can “let” one of my kids control it and my floors are so clean, ready for the baby, and I did NOTHING. And my boys have just occupied themselves for 20 minutes. Another bonus: it’s not very loud, so my two year old doesn’t flee the room and hide with her ears covered, she actually thinks Bob is kinda cute. I am pretty sure this little gift was sent to me straight from Heaven.
The boys keep correcting me.
“You can’t call it ‘the vacuum’, Mom.”
“Don’t say ‘it’! His name is Bob.”
He really is becoming part of the family. In fact, at this rate, he might be my favorite.