The Cleaning Police

This time the "cleaning police" pulled everything out from under the bed and in the closet...

I’ve been part of the Cleaning Police for many years now. You know…trying to teach our kids how to be civilized. Trying to teach them how to clean. Trying to teach them why they should want to clean. After so many years, I get tired of being a Clean-up Officer sometimes.

Now, I need to make it clear. My standards are not high. In fact, I’ve probably been at risk many times of losing my Officer status with the Cleaning Police. If our house is not filthy and the dust-bunnies are not yet taking over the corners, I see no reason to waste time with chores. We have far more interesting things to do!

But…eventually even my limits are reached. I remind the kids that we live in a house, not a barn. I calmly let them know we must start first thing in the morning to clean up the mess. I try to make it clear how important this is.

And then in the morning, they (of course) wander off, other things on their personal agendas. I finally corral them, and threaten dire penalties if they do not begin cleaning AT ONCE!

Anna's room DOES look nice when it is neat and clean!

The whining commences…but so does the work. Eventually order is restored—the house is clean, mama is happy again, and my poor “slaves” are finally free to follow their own interests again.

I try…really…I TRY to be more consistent. I remember my growing up years when Saturday morning was chore time and my sisters and I had to pick jobs out of the chore jar to complete. I’ve tried a schedule. I’ve tried chore charts. I’ve tried rewards. I’ve tried punishments. I’ve tried rotating the various jobs. I’ve tried letting each child become a “specialist” in their favored jobs. Sigh… Anything works for awhile. Then we slack off. We find more interesting things to do. And the dust-bunnies and the clutter threaten to take over our world.

I’m a member of the Cleaning Police. When do I get to resign?