A little fall cleaning.

A few months ago, my mom springs this sweet little number on me. She tells me that she's thought about it (great...this can't be good), and she's decided that I need some help keeping up my house. She even had, at the ready, the name and number of a lady that cleans the homes of several of her co-workers. And even though she didn't speak this decision in that judgy 'mom-to-daughter' way that all of us daughters have come to know so well, I nonetheless reacted in typical brat daughter fashion. Yep, my reply was receptive and mature and super-humble and sounded something like this - "awwww, HELLLLL NAWWWW."

My second thoughts were like this - "I am not about to be paying somebody to do what I can do just fine. And I am doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. Do you even know how much work it would take me just to have my house READY for a housekeeper to come into it? Jared won't pay for that...no way, no how. That's just lazy and ridiculous and preposterous and stupid. Yeah, that's what it is...it's STUPID."

And that was the end of that.

Fast-forward to two weeks ago. My kids were sick. I was sick. Our house was looking like a bomb had gone off in it. Jared was traveling for work 4 out of 5 days that week. I was tired and lonely and sad and sick and overwhelmed and overworked and...in a moment of weakness...I called 'her.' Her name is Maria.

And, you know what? It -- calling her, that is -- just might be the best decision I have ever made.

I'm not saying it's a forever thing. I'm also not saying it's not a little of all of those bad things I said about it before. What I am saying, though, is that my mom wins the prize yet again for knowing best when it comes to me and my sanity (or whatever's left of it after meeting a man, marrying him, job-changing, moving, retiring, popping out two babies, and turning 30 in about 7 seconds flat).

And, now that I've been blessed by not one but TWO visits from Saint Maria, Patron Saint of Saving My Sanity, I've found myself with a little time and energy to post a bloggety blog list of fun about it. And, here it is (in no particular order):

10 Things I've Learned from Saint Maria, Patron Saint of Saving My Sanity

10. A clean house is like a home-cooked meal...it's totally awesome and it's even better if somebody else does it for you.

9. If your 2-year old comes down the stairs from his nap and sees that his home is clean, it's not going to make you cry (like it used to) when he asks, "Mommy, who's comin' over?" Because, guess what. For the first time in a long time, your house is clean just because. Wow. What a revelation.

8. It's profoundly easier to keep a home clean than it is to clean a destroyed crap-sty of a house from the ground up while keepinganeyeonyourtoddlerandsixmontholdandcookingdinnerandrunningerrandsandfeedingthebaby andjugglingwidgetswhileattemptingtobrushyourteethforthefirsttimein48hours.

7. $50-$60 is a small price to pay for right-mindedness. In fact, it's worth giving up just about ANYTHING to squeeze into the budget. I personally chose something very near and dear to my vain little heart...but I don't even care...nobody should have done nails while feeling so undone everywhere else. On that note, it's true what they say...fake nails positively ruin your nailbeds. So, here's to healing fingers, reformed vanity, AND clean baseboards! Holla!

6. Less time and energy cleaning/sorting/picking up/dusting/mopping/sweeping=More quality time and energy loving on the little people in the house.

5. Less time and energy cleaning/sorting/picking up/dusting/mopping/sweeping=More quality time and energy for the other big person in the house. :)

4. If you are used to slavin' around your house and overseeing little people at the same time, you may have a moment like this -- you're sitting at your kitchen table eating a sandwich, both your kids are down for a nap, and you can actually hear someone else scrubbing your toilet...and in this moment, you will suddenly look up and feel like you stole something. Just ride it out, girlfriend...do not let guilt creep in on you now. That moment, it's transcendent and fabulous and, sad to say, short-lived. As we all know, a middle-of-the-night wake-up or a huge blowout diaper or a screamy tantrum at high noon in the neighborhood ChickFilA is sure to befall you very, very soon.

3. It's okay to be so filled with gratitude over the presence of help with your housework that you have real tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat...for two weeks straight. No really, it is.

2. You will find yourself becoming less and less worried about the random little messes that your family makes on a regular basis because, guess what, random little messes are NOTHING compared to random little messes on top of the destroyed crap-sty of a house you were cleaning by yourself before. Nothing.

1. When someone knocks on your door unannounced, you don't have to hide behind furniture and duct-tape your babies' mouths closed so as to make it seem as though you are earning Mother of the Year points by being gone from the home on an outdoor adventure (how else to explain a car in the driveway but no answer at the door? Oh come on, you've sooo thought about it!). Instead, you get to earn Mother/Wife/Homemaker/Hostess of the Year points by calmly and casually swinging that door wide open and saying, "Oh hiiii! What a nice surprise...won't you please come in?!"

So, there you have it. A completely non-inclusive-but-hitting-the-high-points list of things I've learned and love about my mom, Saint Maria, and this little 'secret' to my newfound sanity.

Happy October, friends.