I really love cleaning. I'd rather be cleaning than doing most other things. I see things that need to get done and I think about them constantly until they're finished... perfectly. I have a hard time letting other people help me clean because I have a certain way of how things are done, what order, how clean something should be. Organization... in the microscopic perspective.
Ever since my son was born, I've had to let go of some of those things. I don't get to sweep, mop, dust and vacuum as often as I like, I don't get to deep clean all the crevices and cupboards every Friday and Saturday like I used to. And I especially don't get to cook as often as I'd like because I spend that time nursing my handsome baby boy. Laundry is done randomly on odd days of the week and often folded several days later and put away later than that.
Sometimes, when Jonathan is sleeping, I just like to look at him. Housework takes a back seat when I see him. Obsessive cleaning and cooking disappear when he's is my sight. His presence is so powerful, so all-encompassing within this house, it's hard to think about anything else other than what he needs.
I'm getting better, though. Slowly. I have to learn how to balance being mommy and wife. My wonderful husband has taken a second place for a while, but I'm trying to bring him back into the spot light. He is such a wonderful father and he helps me keep my sanity with all he does around the house to help me.