I like a clean house. A lot. We have a few "Kyker Kid Clean-up" times built into our day that helps to keep things fairly tidy, but actual cleaning doesn't happen nearly as often as it used to a few kids ago. So when I actually do get around to cleaning the floors I like to savor them. I like to walk on them without socks and not feel anything sticky. And I've been known to be a little less than nice to the other people who live on these floors when they might not be as appreciative of them as I think they should be.

Lately though I've slowly begun to understand that, like most of the work that I do everyday, I clean the floors because they are dirty and they need to be cleaned, not because I should expect them to stay that way for any length of time. I've begun to accept the fact that aiming for always-clean floors is like "striving for the wind" (vanity) and leads to a grumpy mommy and a frustrated family. That just because I've cleaned them doesn't mean we stop walking on them so that we can all enjoy a fresh clean floor together (I would be the only person in my family who would think that was fun). No, I clean them because it is my work to remove one sticky layer before a fresh one is added. I know that tomorrow morning there will be spilled milk and Jack will drop a few globs of oatmeal on the floor, but I'm a lot less likely to freak out about that than I used to be.

But that doesn't mean that I can't take a picture of my freshly cleaned floors. Crumb and goo-free (even if only for a few minutes) floors joy.....