2nd Attempt


I’m stalling. My baseboards are desperate for a wipe down and oh my lanta, I just looked on the top of my upper cabinets. Spare yourself the dust-laden, grease-filled horror and NEVER look up there. Because now, the echoes of judgement I had for the sleaze buckets on Go Clean Co.’s Instagram are ringing through my head. I’m the sleaze bucket. And I’m the sleaze bucket that is going to pretend she isn’t one.

My slave driver mother showing me how to properly dispose of garbage

There are boogers on the walls of our TV room. ACTUAL BOOGERS. The worst part of the booger wall is not the wall itself, it’s that I have known about the boogers for at least seven months. See? Sleaze bucket. If you came over, you might think, hmm, Morgan keeps a clean house. LIES. My house is tidy but rarely, if ever, clean. Clean is a thing I’m saving for the future, when my kids have their own booger wall wiping kids. I don’t want to use all the cleaning I have in me and then when it’s a legit possibility, I’m too worn out to have vacuum lines and windows without little grubby hand prints.

Here’s the life hack: tidy up, make your beds, do the dishes, and vacuum. Never, ever use the toilet in the boys only bathroom. Throw in one load of laundry a day and put it away. Ignore the gross stuff until you can’t take it anymore and then go on a cleaning rampage. Swear to never let it get like that again. And then wait a year, until it is like that again, and repeat.

Do you want permission to be gross? If so, here ya go: be gross. Who cares? Your kids will ruin it in 2.7 seconds anyway.

Also know that in the middle of typing today’s journal entry, I cleaned all my baseboards AND the boogers off the wall. So, I’m basically full of crap.

Me vs. wall boogers

Do what you can. Do what you can stand. You don’t actually have to answer to anyone about how you keep house. Define “clean enough” however you want.

Published by Morgan

I wear many hats; wife, mom, entrepreneur, Airbnb host, travel enthusiast, interior design wannabe, blogger, Enneagram type 7, margarita connoisseur. The list goes on because heck, I’m a Gemini too and if you’ve met any of those you know what I’m talking about.

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