Experiment: The Cleaners

Never in a million years would I consider paying people to clean my house. That's for rich people. I am perfectly capable of cleaning up after my family. Or so I thought.

I don't like to admit when I can't do something or when I'm overwhelmed and need help. I'll typically forge ahead no matter how painful it is for me. It's totally against my mission of simplyfying and saving money. How could I possible agree to this frivolous service?

John and I have both reached our limit. We need help. Something's gotta give.

So...we hired a cleaning company to clean our house on a biweekly schedule. It's affordable and reasonable.

They came for the first time on Friday 2 weeks ago. I walk into the house after a long day at work, baby on hip, shoulder full of bags. I just stop and look around with my mouth wide open. My house had never been clean all at once. Half the house is typically clean while the other half is in a shambles. Just as you un-shamble one half , the other half starts to fall apart. A completely clean home was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a very long time. I walk from room to room and for a while it didn't seem like my house, it felt eerie. I open the microwave and it was spotless. I look at the faucet and it's shining. I walk across the floor and there are no crumbs.

John is definitely the one who is most concerned about the state of our home. I could probably live in disarray and be fine with it. I always tell him I'm so glad we met in high school because if we would have met later in life and I invited him to my apartment, it would be a pile of clothes, shoes, papers and food and he would take a look and run away. It's not that I don't care about cleanliness, I do. There's just other stuff I'd rather be doing...but I'm growing up now and my kid can't live in a trash can. Still, my focus is more on spending time with Evan than worrying about dishes in the sink. Does that make sense?

We were impressed with the results and we got to spend more time with little man without the worry of "I've gotta mop the floor," etc. I was also amazed at how having the house clean made me feel less stressed, like it took a little bit of weight off my shoulders. Plus it's kind of luxurious to come home to the t.p folded like that. Ahhh, like a hotel. It doesn't stay that way for long. I eventually have to use the bathroom. BUT it's fun to come home to.

It's not forever, just for a bit. Of course, if I were home I'd clean my own house but until then...I need help. 

In what ways do you get help at home?