I’ve been thinking about a small moment from my mom’s teenage years: one afternoon, a friend came over. They were hanging out in her room, and at some point, the friend opened my mom’s dresser drawer. When she looked down, the friend saw clean clothes neatly folded and lined up in little rows.
“Who did this?” the friend asked.
“My mom,” said my mom.
“I’m going to do this for my daughter one day.”
It could be because I’m a custodian until April or because I miss home already, but I keep thinking about this story, about home, and about cleaning. Someone smack me! I never thought I’d type those words!
First things first, I promoted myself to a silver medal cleaner who succeeded in vacuuming the whole school in one shift. (Note: I did not do it in 1.5 hours, I did it in three; I’m still not as good as Bruce.)
Secondly, this week I visited the demolition zone, otherwise known as our house. The place, as expected, was a dusty, filthy explosion of house guts. Even the untouched areas were getting dirty: it looked like someone sneezed drywall all over the keyboard in the downstairs office (caused by earthquake-like shaking?), and the guys are definitely wearing their work boots on the basement playroom carpet. (Did I really think construction dudes would take off their shoes when they walk on the carpet? Good one!)
I strolled through as a quiet observer, seeing this cleaning project through my new custodial eyes. I can vacuum the basement this weekend when I come to do laundry, I thought. If I use the nozzle attachment, I could get that keyboard cleaned up in three minutes.
But the keyboard gave me a middle finger by magically hitting the keys ‘F’ and ‘U’ with its ghost fingers. You never cleaned me before, why start now? it asked. I get it, keyboard. I know the entire desk area has been a disaster for years, and in the past, I would literally just blow the dirt away to make a clean spot when I wanted to sit there and work.
Why didn’t I ever clean my house? I would pick up and stay organized, but I wouldn’t clean. I was basically telling my house I didn’t love it. I feel like the person who realizes only after getting dumped how badly they treated their partner.
When my mom and her best friend would visit, they would drop hints like, “It’s a good idea to wipe your sink out at the end of the day,” or “When I washed your floor, it was pretty dirty.” I’d say “Uh huh,” and “Thank you so much.”
But I’m ready to make it up to my house. I am only on day 13 of our relocation, and I am googling ‘cozy house pictures’ and ‘spotless master bedrooms’ and ‘how to clean your windows what are those fuzzy things?’
I remember that before we left, our windows were dirty, and when we get our house back, I’m going to clean them. That’s right! Did you hear me windows? [One window at my house cracks open, and a breeze blows in.] When this is all over, I’m going to clean you and even replace the fuzzy weather strips because I just learned that’s what they’re called.
This morning, I cleaned Aunt Wendy’s house. I should clarify: Aunt Wendy doesn’t live here. She lives down the road, and the house where she is letting us stay is a house she bought to fix up and rent. She has skills that include woodworking and refinishing furniture and sticking with projects that take years to come to fruition.
I vacuumed, did all the dishes, cleaned the toilet, and wiped out the bathroom sink. I spent extra time cleaning the area where we keep our winter boots and shook off the rugs outside. I picked up everyone’s room but focused on the room where our youngest son is sleeping. There isn’t a ton of furniture in the house since no one really lives here, but I did make some gorgeous, tidy piles.
Women receive a ton of gaslighting regarding everything in life, I mean regarding cleaning. We are told ‘Who cares if the house is a disaster?’ and ‘Bless this Mess.’ That can be true. Who cares? Not you! Be free! Don’t clean!
But maybe you do care. Maybe you like a house that is tidy and clean, where the clothes are rolled up into Marie Kondo-like tubes, and there is not a dust bunny to be found. I’m starting to understand. It can make a person happy to clean because a clean space feels so good.
I’m not only saying this because I’m a professional custodian now, but cleaning is a gift to those who get to enjoy the fruits of your labor. I stayed at work late on Wednesday evening so I could vacuum outside the after-school program for the second time. I wanted those kids to come in the morning and not have to trample on a bunch of crunchy, brown leaves. I wanted them to drag in fresh leaves! I looked at the cubbies lined against the wall of the hallway and picked up a few pairs of snow pants that fell on the floor. They are on the go all day; I can straighten things up to make their space a little nicer.
If all of this sounds like an alien language, you just may not be one of my species. You may be one of these creatures instead:
The 5 Love Languages Breakdown from Everyday Health
Gifts You show love and care with gifts, put extra time and effort into finding the perfect gift, and enjoy receiving gifts yourself.
Acts of Service You look for ways to be helpful, like finishing the chores, making dinner, or running important errands — and you appreciate when your partner does the same for you. (Right here!)
Words of Affirmation You value sharing your emotions and hearing your partner talk about theirs. You make an effort to offer reassurance to your partner, and compliments are a key to your heart.
Quality Time You come up with a bunch of ideas about what you and your partner can do when you’re together. You appreciate spending quality time with your partner, and when they give you their full attention without distractions.
Physical Touch You like physical intimacy — to cuddle, touch, and kiss. When you’re upset or having a bad day, a hug calms you down more than words.
Things can go sour by doing something like telling a person who has Gifts as their first Love Language that they are materialistic. Or telling Physical Touch that they are too clingy. Or Quality Time that you’re too busy. Or Words of Affirmation that they suck. Or telling Acts of Service that you’re never taking out the trash again.
Revisiting this made it all the more evident why I am feeling such a strong pull toward cleaning: can you imagine if we didn’t clean Aunt Wendy’s house? Imagine if sweet Wendy offered up her second home to her nephew, his wife, and their three young sons, and they trashed the place. What if she came over and saw crusty dishes in the sink and stains on the rug? She could rightly be the one typing out an F and a U.
Cleaning is my way of saying, I love you, Aunt Wendy. Thank you for letting us stay here. We don’t have to talk about it too much or hug it out, so I’ll just dust your baseboards instead.
If you don’t subscribe to Max, it’s time to borrow a friend’s username and password and catch up on The White Lotus. People, people, people!
Season 3 begins on February 16th, and while you don’t need to have seen past seasons to enjoy the newest episodes, the first two seasons are the ultimate elixir for the February doldrums.
The tropical destinations and the wild theme songs and the tight scripts by Mike White and friends and the juicy relationships… it is all so delectable. I’m also excited because my fellow Iowa native Michelle Monaghan is in this newest season. Us midwesterners like to keep an eye on each other. I didn’t even mention Parker Posey yet, come on now.
Speaking of Parker Posey, if you have never seen or haven’t seen Party Girl in years, it’s time.
Her character Mary knows what’s up. She cleans and organizes throughout this entire movie, that is when she’s not out dancing or picking up the falafel guy. It’s a great one to have on while you vacuum as you can copy her incredible dance moves.
When I was cleaning this morning, this pen fell off of our art cart:
Whenever I bump into this, my heart swells. This pen was given to me over 20 years ago by a girl in my screenwriting class. We were both students at Emerson College, and it kills me that I don’t remember her name. We weren’t really friends, not on purpose, but we were friendly. That is also what makes this gift all the more poignant.
She gave me this pen and told me that she enjoyed my writing and wanted me to have this as a reminder to always stick with it.
Her love language was obviously Gifts. The tip may be broken off (thanks boys), but I’m keeping this forever. I wish I could find her and thank her again.
This week, the Spotify algorithm brought up this classic from over 20 years ago: ‘Chutes Too Narrow’ by The Shins.
I interviewed the lead singer, James Mercer, when I was writing for The Reader, an independent weekly newspaper in Omaha. I’ll never forget that during our conversation, he said he was laying in bed in his hotel room watching HGTV. Kindred spirits!
Thanks for reading.
XO
Alissa
I loved this Alissa!