In Which I Clean House And Connor Is Happy

Today was extremely productive!

I don't know about you all, but I often find that the state of my house is very indicative of how things are going in my personal life at that particular moment.  When I'm stressed and worried I have a lot less energy to devote to things like dusting and picking up after myself, and as a result the house ends up looking, shall we say, less than stellar.  I'm not saying that it gets unsanitary-- I don't stop cleaning the toilets or anything-- but the laundry definitely piles up and the floor doesn't get mopped as often as it should.  I also tend to do a lot of my cleaning and housework while Connor is in school, and so my routine gets interrupted when he's home all day.  I go into survival mode, and somehow scrubbing the baseboards and cleaning the grout in my shower doesn't seem that important anymore.

So whenever things start looking up-- usually when Connor starts feeling better-- I have a sudden urge to clean my house from top to bottom and make everything sparkle.  I have a lot more energy to devote to housework because I'm not spending it all worrying about the little guy.  So that explains why today I spent about six hours cleaning the house from top to bottom.  Today Connor didn't have a single dose of Tylenol or Ativan and he didn't have a single seizure!  That means he can go back to school and return to his normal routine.  He giggled his way through the laundry folding (his favorite chore), napped happily while I scrubbed the bathroom tile and played with his drum set while I swept our entryway.  It's nice to have my happy little guy back! 

And I have to admit that the idea of reclaiming my two and a half hours of daily free time made me pretty happy too-- happy enough to want a clean house to spend it in!  But also I think that Connor's joy is so infectious and so constant I don't realize how much I depend on it until he gets sick and, for a few days, it's missing.  Despite how syrupy and cliched it might sound, he truly makes my world brighter.  When he's in a great mood I can't help but have a good time, even if all I'm doing is cleaning the kitchen or taking out the garbage.  He startles and then laughs at the sudden bang of the recycling bin slamming shut.  He watches the broom sweep back and forth with an intent, awed expression.  And laundry-- once my most hated chore-- never fails to make Connor laugh so hard he falls over. 

So Connor is happy again and the house is clean.  I'd call that a pretty good day!