When we moved into our temporary home, I looked around and had virtuous thoughts about cleaning it myself. I could get the girls involved and teach them how to clean. We could put on music and make a fun day of it. They would be able to gain valuable skills, and continue to learn how to be helpful.
A week went by. The house got unpacked. I spent almost a thousand dollars in a week. I thought about how much more I would spend on housecleaning. I looked at the cleaning products under the sink and tried to remember how to use them. I told myself that lots and lots of women clean their own houses, and I could do it too.
Then I listened to the voice of reality in my head. I am almost eight months pregnant. I am homeschooling Kathleen. I have three children under the age of six at home all day every. single. day. Our townhouse is small and we have almost no toys and a back deck that doesn't come close to passing as a 'yard.'
But really, I knew that all of those reasons were trying to make me feel better about the one reason that would win in the end: I have grown lazy over the last two years. And really, I don't actually care.
So today, I took the children bike riding. Before we left, I placed a check on the table and my key under the doormat (and no, I'm not telling you my address). When we came back after riding bikes and playing in the park, the check was gone and the house was clean. And it was worth every single penny.