Cleanliness Is Next To Craziness

It's been the HausFrau battle cry of Summer 2008. Maybe more of a threat. It goes something like this:

"Take the crusted over ice cream carton off my desk and throw it away . . .
or, I will go ballistic!"

"Pick up the popcicle stick off my office floor . . .
or, I will go ballisitc!"

"All markers & crayons need to go back into their containers right now . . .
or, I will go ballistic!"

"Fold and put away every piece of clothing in your room on your floor . . .
or I will go ballistic!"

I will give MiniMe a little credit here; she's wired more like I am when it comes to the need for order and doesn't cause as much cleaning stress. Laze-E on the other hand . . . .

oh, dear.

That girl is going to drive me to dry-swollowing Prozac by the handfuls before the summer is over.

Thankfully, she has enough sense to jump quickly when she's in danger of being on the receiving end of a good old fashioned conniption fit. Been there, done that. Wasn't a whole lot of fun.

I'm sure it wasn't a picnic for her, either.

OK, Laze-E is pretty smart and over the years has developed a good feel for what will set me off. She could probably give you a fairly accurate Top Ten for Pushing Mom's Buttons -- especially when considering order & perfection in the Haus. However, because she's uh . . . lazy . . . she only considers un-pushing buttons when threatened with bodily harm. Or loss of computer privileges.

Man, on the other hand, has apparently been living in the recliner facing the TV La-La Land. It was only 2 days ago that he finally got a clue that certain inperfections around the Haus can push me to the edge of sanity. Seriously, I only half joke about having some OCD tendencies. It's not like I'm diagnosed PsychoFrau or anything. It's all very subclinical, but slight anxiety lurks just beneath the surface of my savvy self.

And, Man didn't know. Can you say denial?

How did he finally get a clue? One might ask. Well, let me tell you.

After letting some HausFrau tasks slide for a few days, I was feeling that must-clean-Haus anxiety creeping up on me. I started loading up the laundry basket & just happened to mention to Man that it was almost impossible for me to stay motivated daily to do HausWork. As a result, I get behind and, as a result, I get stressed.

You know what he did?

He looked around and said the Haus looks fine to me, what are you foaming at the mouth talking about?

Obviously, he's blind our standards are a bit different. I was almost in tears - admittedly, it's ridiculous - as I reminding him about the OCD thing. When certain things are not a certain way, I get stressed.

His response: Seriously? I thought you were just joking. I had no idea it was that bad.

My response: Seriously? How could you not know? I mention it a few times per week. Most of my frineds know. Seriously? You had no clue?

Seriously. He had no clue.

So, I clued him in.

Ok, hon, you know how I whip out the vacuum cleaner, fluff & arrange the pillows, flip the rug tassles and line up the DVD's before I can sit down and watch the entire first season of Weeds a bit of TV? Well, crumbs on the floor, crooked tassles, DVD's and pillows in disarray totally drive me nuts and I can't relax.

Man's response: my vacuuming, fluffing & arranging totally drives him nuts.

Or, how about when we are about to take off for a Rockin'Bauer Road Trip. You know, how I whip out the Swiffer duster to clean off the dash & console? And swipe a Windex wipies over the windshield? It drives me nuts and I can't relax and enjoy the trip with dust on the radio controls.
Man's response: my swiping and wiping drive him nuts.

Or, how about when I'm in the kitchen swiping and wiping and missing a good TV show. A messy kitchen drives me nuts and I can't relax in front of Medium.

Man's response: Seriously? It's that bad? I just thought you'd rather be cleaning than watching TV.

Side note: the only reason this doesn't drive him nuts is because he's in another room.

Bottom Line: if not doing it drives me nuts and my doing it drives him nuts, it's the OCD talking.

But, now he's trying to blame every bit of HausWork on OCD. Meaning that if all HausWork is just OCD craziness, he's off the hook from ever having to do any, forever & ever. Hello?! Most of the time I'm loading or unloading the dishwasher or washing dishes by hand because it needs to be done & it's my job. Ditto for toilet scrubbing. And, dusting.

Just so he can help me keep the pillows fluffed and neatly arranged be informed, I gave him the short list of other anxiety-inducing infractions:

Towels - including bath towles, hand towels, dish cloths and towels, must be neatly folded the right a certain way.

Rugs cannot be cockeyed; they must line up with the tiles on the floor.

Stainless steel in the kitchen, espeically the island, has to be shined.

Chairs have to be pushed up to the table and symmetrical.

It's not like I obsessively or compulsively fold and re-fold towels. I just feel better when that perfect tri-fold is gracing the bathroom shelves. Like I said, it's all very subclinical. It's just freaking denial part of the unique tapestry that makes me me.

Amazingly enough, other things I can somewhat ignore. I can handle a bit of mess in the bathrooms, my desk (to an extent - does not include stray ice cream cartons), I can let laundry pile up for a few days (remember, I have a European size washer so I can't go that long), windows don't really bother me, dishes don't have to be 100% done 100% of the time, and as long as pantry & fridge shelves are mostly in order, I'm okay.

I also pointed out that because I am HausFrau and not 9-5Woman that I can much better manage the anxiety. As long as I stay on top of the HausWork, I'm good. And, his quality of life is good. And, the kids are mostly intact.

However, if I have job-realted stress on top of HausWork stress, the anxiety can really get to me. Been there, done that. Wasn't a whole lot of fun.

And, it wasn't a picnic for me either.

So, we have a deal. I continue to play HausFrau for now, keeping the OCD subclinical, Man's quality of life remains undisturbed & the kids should remain mostly intact. When I do go back to work full time, Man will not play full time HausMan - remember that part about his being blind our having different standards?

We will hire a housekeeper. A live-in would be awesome, part time would be desirable. I'll settle for a once-a-weeker.

Of course, we'll have to probably pay extra for him (keeping it PC) or her (keeping it real) to deal with popcicle sticks and ice cream cartons.

Either that, or the hired help might go ballistic.

And, I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be a picnic.

For us, either.