Yesterday, after we hired her, I had this enormous twinge of guilt. My kids are in school. I don't actually need anyone to clean my house. I clean my house every day. Why do I need to hire someone? It's spotless in here!
Today, Lydia started her journey with us. She is a lovely filipina who is supporting her entire family back home all by herself. She is extremely sweet. She arrived just as I was leaving to walk the kids to school, at 7:45am. She left at noon. My house is utterly immaculate. She even rolled up all of the rugs and mopped under them. She moved the beds to vacuum beneath them. Every surface in my house, even the sides of the furniture, has been scrubbed and polished to a gleam. It's magnificent. My home smells amazing and feels like home.
Best of all, my back isn't killing me.
I don't know why we moms refuse help so often, and when we accept help we feel like we have failed ourselves. It's so silly. I can't say I picture myself ever hiring someone full time, cooking and watching my children. I like to cook. I like to watch my own kidlets. I actually don't mind cleaning.
Especially now that I can leave the more grueling jobs to be completed twice a week. :)
In this sometimes lonely existence of military wife/mom/new Cairene, it's nice to have an ally to come and help me a few days a week. She will be invaluable if we are ever (though, hopefully not) on lockdown and I need something brought in. She is also excited to help me unpack when our household goods arrive. I'm going to try to appreciate this moment in my life, where I have been able to remove a few of the many hats that I have been balancing for years.
Yesterday, for the first time in six years as a mother, I had a migraine and was able to lie down in a silent house and sleep. Six years! That's a lot of migraines in a loud home. I'm in a new place. I find myself balancing between excitement and loneliness, counting down the minutes until I can collect my kiddos and bring them back to the nest. It's also exciting to be moving on to a new part of my life. There is room for Regan now. It feels weird.
Here's to accepting help. And accepting ourselves. Even if we are weird.
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