The Secret to a Clean House

Rearranging furniture is seriously one of my favorite pastimes. And painting walls. My kids are totally used to it. Sometimes when they go to school their room will be yellow and the bed will be under the window. When they come home, the walls will be green and the bed will be on the door wall. Sometimes the bed will be in someone else's room because that's not their room anymore.

Kidding, kidding. I've never switched rooms on them. But there's an idea...

All of my friends from childhood know this about me. If you have ever been any kind of good friend in my life at any time, then you've probably had your room rearranged by me, and a lot of you have had it painted. I used to go over to friend's houses to spend the night on Friday night and after doing the normal girl sleepover stuff, you know, painting our nails, talking about boys, being mean to little brothers, watching Jonathan Brandis and Leonardo DiCaprio movies, and choreographing a new mime to Margaret Becker songs (What? You don't know who Margaret Becker is!?), usually we'd sit there for awhile, crimping each other's hair for a homemade modeling shoot or telling scandalous secrets until finally, I could bear it no more and would burst out with, "Hey, let's rearrange your room!"

Such fun! I love the possibilities that four walls and a bunch of random, mismatched furniture hold, especially when you use what you already have. I am at my decorating best when utilizing my already existing resources.

When I got married, I think Rosey was shocked the first couple of times he came home and everything was totally different or a lone wall was painted red or yellow. One time, in our first apartment, I even painted words on the wall. "Hope Dies Last" in bright green on a white wall. Kind of morbid. I don't know, back then it seemed so inspiring...

It wasn't like I hadn't rearranged both his college room and bedroom at his parent's house while we were dating, but I don't think he knew it was my permanent mental state.

That's why I think it a very good thing that there's a perk to my constant need for change.

I always clean.

I have a "clean as you rearrange" policy, and it has never failed me so far. Having a new room, so to speak, justifies itself with the need for cleanliness. And I mean clean. I scrub the whole room from top to bottom usually, so it can really shine in every way. And so my house is almost always clean. But nothing is ever in the same place. Well almost never. There are three instances in which something could be in the same place, and that would be:

1. I really really like where it is for a longer than normal amount of time (but this has only happened once, back in 2002, and it only lasted about a year).

2. That particular piece has simply made its circuit around the house to all the other conventional places it could be, and now it is revisiting this place for a little while, while I decide whether or not to sell it, paint it or put it somewhere totally unconventional, like the front porch.

3. It just seems to be in the same place, but it is actually three inches to the right of where it was last time you were here.

Yes, I clean my house like normal people, when it is dirty. But that reason is usually too boring to motivate proper scrubbing action. My favorite way to clean is by rearranging and decorating.

I like a clean house. It's inspiring, refreshing, reassuring, safe, fun, bright, new. A clean palette. A fresh canvas. An excuse to invite people over. Conducive to a good night's sleep. Something to be proud of. A wonderful symbol of order and peace, my home, as an island in the midst of a sea of chaos, the crazy world out there.

Whenever I get a new piece of furniture, which usually comes from the trash, a garage sale or thrift store, since I am not filthy rich and I'd rather spend good money on travel (and paint), and I like to be free to paint or saw or hammer the pieces I find, I feel quite rich. With placement possibilities. And encouraged that my house will keep on staying really clean because I will keep on being inspired about it.

What about you?
What forces you to clean your house? 

The Lasting Effects of Chocolate Cake

I am standing in my kitchen, frosting a huge dark chocolate fudge cake with Chocolate Lover's frosting, from the frosting recipe on the back of the Hershey Cocoa can.

I am an artist and food is one of my favorite mediums. I must make this cake half a dozen times a year. Whenever the kids see me frosting it they start bouncing off the walls, shouting incoherent silliness about "Mommy's chocolate cakes"...

"You're doing a great thing there, with that cake," Derek suddenly states. I didn't know he was watching me and now I am self-conscious of my sweeping strokes, and sneaked tastes.

He is quiet. I look up and gesture for him to elaborate. "I mean, this isn't just a chocolate cake. This is a memory, a tradition. This is something that the kids will always remember. One day, when they call to say their coming home from college for the weekend, I'll tell them, 'Your mom made a cake', and they'll feel just as loved and excited then as they do now."

He's right. They are excited.

Carson is bouncing around the kitchen, sneaking tastes of frosting from the bowl, which I see but keep to myself, and offering to get the dessert plates and forks, to help, to be a part of the fun of cutting and serving it. We always serve chocolate cake on small fancy glass plates, with small dessert forks.

Lane is shoveling the rest of his dinner into his mouth at lightning speed. After all, delectable desserts cannot be eaten unless your plate is cleaned.

Matthew is clearing his glass dinner plate from the table. It lands in the sink with a resounding crash, causing all of us to jump. Poor kid. He can't help it that the top of his head just barely reaches the counter top. I decide not to say anything about tossing glass into the sink. Not many 4 year olds clear their plates without being asked. And he's not used to having glass - we just started giving him a regular dinner plate instead of plastic.

I absolutely love to cook and bake. Any person who has ever been to my house knows this. I absolutely love good food. But my favorite? Cooking good food for my family. For me, it is one of the most tangible ways that I can show love to them.

Of course, good food does have it's cost. On my hips and thighs (sigh). But for me, it's a small price to pay. I am investing, daily, in the lives and memories of my family. And learning to only have a small slice...

One day they will look back upon their childhood with nostalgia for all those favorite dishes that remind them of love and make them feel known and nurtured.

With that in mind, I welcome with open arms the lasting effects of chocolate cake.