Two weeks to go know until the new baby arrives and I’ve become a lean, mean cleaning machine. Well maybe not so lean, but big, fat, mean, cleaning machine doesn’t really have the same ‘roll off the tongue’ ring to it.
I have quite literally gone mad cleaning our house in preparation for the new arrival. It’s not really surprising really. One of my biggest pregnancy cravings this time around has been the delicious smell of Sainsbury’s disinfectant floor wipes. I carried a packet of them around in my bag in case of emergencies – like random cleaning emergencies. Like the time we went to a restaurant and the highchair needed a swift wipe before we deposited the youngest boy there.
Our waitress tried to fob us off with a quick spritz of, frankly inferior, wishy, washy spray and a swipe of a damp cloth. After she left I produced my emergency wipes and I can safely say that that particular highchair has never, ever been so gloriously clean and beautifully sweet smelling. The thing was quite literally reflective.
Yes the husband, other punters and restaurant staff thought me crazy, but may God forgive me, once I get a whiff of those lime and eucalyptus infused wipes I just go into a hazy trance. God knows I would have cleaned the entire premises from top to bottom had I been permitted.
They say that this nesting urge in pregnancy is thought to be caused by both biological and emotional factors. Most females in the animal kingdom experience similar patterns of cleaning and preparation when they are pregnant. Yes, but how many female gorillas are you aware of who feel an overwhelming urge to colour code their wardrobes or thoroughly vacuum their front lawns?
From birds to bears, female animals appear to have an intrinsic need to prepare ahead of time for our new arrivals. It is believed that females are programmed to experience this nesting instinct in order to ensure that their offspring will be cared for properly after birth, and, of course, have superbly clean cupboards and adequately colour co-ordinated relatives.
This week I have kind of gone off the Sainsbury’s wipes and find myself strangely drawn to Cif Multi-Purpose anti-bacterial spray. The air in our house is thick with the aluminous blue liquid drops. Everything and everyone who is stationery for more than two minutes is sprayed and scrubbed down.
I am like a drug addict, any excuse for another hit. I cleaned and disinfected the husband’s car – seats, windows, doors, boot space and all. It had been cleaned recently yes, but it hadn’t been really thoroughly disinfected since, like ever.
I go home after work and seek not the comfort of the sofa, the mop and bucket is my new friend. I collapse in a heap come 11pm, exhausted by the effort of steam cleaning the inside of my kitchen cupboards and vacuuming the garage’s cement floor. Many nights, after hours of constant cleaning, I haven’t even the energy to converse with my nearest and dearest. Unless it’s to converse about cleaning or the availability of new cleaning products.
The kitchen is on fire, is it? No, no I simply can’t find the energy to lift my head from this cushion, just leave me here, go and save yourselves. I would truly like to lie here until my head stops spinning. What’s that you say? WHAT? The patio doors have mucky paw prints on them? Get me some Windolene spray and some kitchen roll STAT!! Those windows will be gleaming if it is the last thing I do.
If you’re looking for me this week I shall be in the cleaning product department of my local supermarket and sample sniffing new forms of disinfectant. I am also available, for the next two weeks only, to clean houses at reasonable rates, say the price of Sainsbury’s floor wipes.
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