At the Wonderlab

For Christmas, my Matt gave me a certificate for six months of once-a-month housecleaning. You ought to know by now that my house is really messy--I tidy maybe one room a day, although it's certainly untidy again by evening, and perhaps I'll do some dishes or laundry, but mostly I play Quirkle with the girls, and make Barbie clothes with them, and cook them play dough, and read to them, and build them books out of their artwork, and go to the park and the library and the YMCA and the other park and maybe still another park with them, etc. Seriously, I barely even cook dinner anymore--I feed the girls leftovers of whatever concoction they've asked to make with me during the day (The latest? Mashed potatoes and freshly juiced orange juice), and then later that night Matt gets out the George Foreman and grills us veggie/non veggie burgers.

Matt's scheduled us a housecleaning before on a couple of special occasions, and it's always been this totally retro awesome experience--The whole house! Clean at once! And it smells of pine! And the floors are mopped! And the dishwasher is running! And all the junk is picked up off the floor! And the toilet is SO clean! And I didn't have to do it!--that I have been deeply looking forward to my once-a-month deep cleaning treat, and yet somehow, it's just not working out this year.

The first little company that Matt called just never answered their phone, and never called him back. The next little company scheduled a cleaning and then cancelled because it was snowing, and then re-scheduled, and then cancelled because one of the cleaners woke up with the flu, and then rescheduled. Each time the girls and I are required to evacuate the house, which can be a little annoying depending on our mood for the day, but hey! The whole house is gonna be clean at once!

In our latest evacuation in hopes that the housecleaners actually come and clean our house this time, the girlies and I hit up our regular hang-out spot, the Wonderlab:

Playing with a Parachute

Grapevine Climber

Rocks to Covet in the Gift Shop

Interactive Artwork in the Garden

Shoots!

Kinetic Ball Machine

Wind Tunnels

We had a marvelous time, as usual, and then came home, eagerly anticipating the glory of a clean house. And yet, when I opened the door--Alas! The house is just as filthy as before! The housecleaners did not come! Again they did not come!

Apparently it's a great time to be a housecleaner, with so much business to pick from that you don't even have to show up to a place if you don't want to. And, desperate and all, we've come up with a Plan B that's frankly vastly better than this Plan A, anyhow:

This Sunday, and one Sunday a month thereafter, I will leave the house all by myself. I will leave at my leisure. I will visit establishments of peace and pleasure, such as coffee shops and book stores. While I am gone, Matt and the children will deep-clean the house without me. They will not be paid.

Money-saving AND accomplishes the same goal! And Plan B gets me a soymilk latte, too!

I am sold.