The Prep and Purge Process

I’m never so convinced as I am during move month that a) we have way too much junk and b) we live in complete and total squalor.

This round, I’ve convinced myself that if I deep clean the house while I purge all the things I want to get rid of, that it’ll somehow make the moving process easier. I’m doing this knowing that every freaking time we move, I have to do a second purge after arrival AND that the packing/loading process itself is inherently dirty. Boxes leave behind grit and having packers/loaders in and out of my house results in grime (even if it can’t compare to the amount of grime 5 kids and 3 pets produce). Also, no matter how much you deep clean, the second the furniture is moved, you find at least three fur crusted hair ties, two broken pencils, four desiccated blueberries, half a bowl worth of dried cereal, and the earring you’ve been missing for three months. This is reality.

So am I wasting my time? It remains to be seen. Bee is convinced that I’m onto something and will completely revolutionize the move experience for us. But I also notice that she’s not volunteering to wipe baseboards and vacuum dryer vents.

Yesterday, I deep cleaned both linen closets, the hallway, and the kids’ bathroom. A dear friend who doesn’t have five kids and three pets asked me why a linen closet needs to be deep cleaned. In a word: hairballs. In another word: hide-and-seek. It counts as a single word if you hyphenate. Also, part of “deep cleaning” the linen closet involved having the oldest Frizzellion test out all the air mattresses to make sure none of them leak.

There were no peas involved.

So far in the prep and purge process (PPP), I’ve found a ridiculous number of nerf gun bullets, scrubbed up multiple splatters of spilled nail polish, trimmed the dog’s nails (don’t ask how this applies), eaten cake and tea for lunch, discovered a hat that a kid’s friend (and a friend’s kid) left here two months ago, and procrastinated by texting. Also, I’ve listened to a lot of 90’s music. The kids can suck it up/be well educated.

Also x2, what is it about the cleaning process that causes friends to swing by our house to drop things off and decide not to disturb me? Seriously. If you come by the house, please interrupt my frantic frenzy. I need a break. Give me a break, please. I’m begging you.

ALSO x3, the deep cleaning is a clear sign that we’re about to leave so get your kicks in while you can. Stop this whole “leaving stuff with the kids and sneaking away so you don’t disrupt my cleaning process.” The insanity needs disruption! And I’m going to miss you!

Other things involved in the PPP, cleaning marker off the carpet (thanks, Twinkle), cleaning slime off the couch (thanks, Bruiser), discovering dust bunnies on nightstands (thanks, whoever got assigned to dusting within the last month—you guys are great at cutting corners), scraping dried up slime off the kitchen floor (thanks, Bee), replacing light bulbs (only to discover I bought the wrong size), scrubbing slime out of Tiny’s blanket (thanks, Tiny-who-blames-Bee), and gluing back together all the stuff the kids have broken in the last three months (thanks, guys—I should’ve just used dried slime—it probably would’ve held together as well as gorilla glue).

And unfortunately, just because I’m neck deep in the PPP doesn’t mean all the other things have stopped. This morning, I cleaned up cat barf and then stepped on a sopping wet kitchen rug: the dishwasher leaked during the night. Doesn’t matter—I was going to clean that rug anyway! Yesterday before my cleaning jag, we waded through more math and read-a-louds, the second to last piano lessons, and end of year achievement testing (which I like to remind the kids says more about my teaching skills than it does about their perceived brilliance).

And all that with only one extra cup of coffee.

I plan to do it all again today. Well, without the piano lessons and hopefully with a severely reduced amount of slime (slime-giver, you know who you are—and I know you read this blog—there’s nowhere to hide).

Trigger, rubbing in the fact that he doesn’t have to do the PPP

In the midst of the PPP—when I come face to face with the realization that, as a mom of five, I’m never going to be a true minimalist—there’s still a lot to be thankful for.

I’m thankful for the Man and the kids who consistently have my back; for friends who don’t do the drop-and-run so that I can get a break (those of you who are doing the drop-and-run are dead to me); for people who send funny texts to keep me motivated; for a body that is currently working with me, not against me (no small thing); for trash services that I don’t have to pay for (take all my junk away!); for the lists that keep me organized; for the dog who still needs walking (and who follows me around the house as I clean, trying to figure out why I would do something like that instead of taking a nap); and for the friend who took the twins and Twinkle out for ice cream yesterday so they couldn’t see me throwing away half the junk they’d left in the dress up bin.

Amen. And here we go again.