I cleaned this morning. A purge that resulted in four bags of clothes/old toys to put in the donation bin and one large bag of garbage. It all came from my room.
The house is maintained at a pretty decent level. I make sure to clean the bathrooms once a week (10 days at most), clean out the kitchen sink and counters every few days, vacuum when the carpets start turning white with dog fur, you get the idea. The laundry tally is always high, most of it gets put away, but it all gets folded into baskets, at least. Keeping a house clean is a never ending, always fighting against you chore. But I do it because, quite frankly, I have to.
But I always neglect my room. Always. It’s the one that doesn’t get dusted, doesn’t get de-cluttered. Because I focus on the main floor and then the bathrooms upstairs and if there’s enough time left, I put away laundry and straighten the kids’ rooms and then after that, there is neither the energy nor time to clean my room. But it’s clean now! And de-cluttered!
I’ll quickly dust and scrub the downstairs bathroom tomorrow morning, but other than those two things, the house is clean.
There are 10 days left in my pills this month. I’ve been taking my cal-mag and Evening Primrose daily (I was taking flax for my oil, but switched to EPO on some good advice) and am really hoping that those two things combined with the major hormone adjustment of the new pill will alleviate (at least a little) my feelings of.. well, depression.
The third week of the month is when things spiral out of control. No laundry gets done, the house does not get cleaned. I figure if I keep a really high level of maintenance while I’m feeling energetic (ie, like myself), letting things slide next week won’t be a big deal. The fourth week, although tired, at least I can manage to get my mind around unloading the dishwasher.
I have a friend who was just diagnosed with depression/anxiety. She’s been really open about the whole situation with me, and I’m happy that she’s talking about it to someone, but I don’t know what to say. So I listen and don’t offer advice (because what advice can I offer?) and I hope she’ll be ok.
We are headed to the daycare this afternoon for a Valentine’s Day party, Steve and I have a date tomorrow night at a fancy restaurant and Sunday morning we are going to make heart-shaped pancakes for the girls. I’ve never been a sap about Valentine’s Day, but this year I feel so extraordinarily blessed, I just want to shout my love from the rooftops.