This weekend I went to see my sister. She has a beautiful child, almost two years old. She lives $186 dollars away, on a good day. $380 dollars away with poor airline planning. I don't see her enough.
This was a long weekend, 3.5 days long. Which is pretty good for a weekend. All weekends should consider being this long, as it would give us more time to fly off and see our loved ones, while still pretending to have real jobs. I say that it was a long weekend, but for my mom, it was a regular weekend. The way she made it seem long was by missing work on a Friday and a Monday. She took me to see my sister in Washington. No, not D.C... but my sister would have loved to be in D.C. during the inauguration. No, we are talking Washington State. Home of apples, and twilight fanatics.
Mom was very generous to take me. It sounds like a great mommy thing to do doesn't it? Did I mention her foot is in a cast and she needed a wheelchair escort? This left both my hands conveniently free to pull two carry-ons and my bag and hers. I also seemed available to untie her one tennis shoe, and fetch waters, coffees and sandwiches. Now I would have willingly done all this for my mom, ticket or no ticket...notice the word willingly substituting for gladly. But I would have done it all anyway, the ticket just seemed like a nice way to assure that my compliance went the extra mile.
My sister picked us up in Portland. This is the airport we flew into. After an hour and a half drive, we arrived at our final destination: the baby. The baby is my niece. She has effectively taken the throne from my own child, who gladly shoved it her way, as most fifteen year olds are want to do. Being the second grandchild in a family, with so much time past since the first one, is basically being the first one. It comes with the authority to call grandparents to you from across the country, and to seem cute, no matter how you smell. I do admit she is cute. Almost as cute as my baby was. I can say this out loud because my sister understands. She is a mom now.
Being a mom has brought a lot of changes. There is only time for baby, and the brief eating and breathing. Throwing a full time job into the mix, even if it is flexible and you get to do some of it from home, is almost unmanageable. She kept asking my mom how she did it having 3 children. Mom just rocked back and forth facing the corner and singing row row row your boat, to no one in particular. Yes, having a child leaves a lot less time for everything. Friends, sisters, yourself, reading, relaxing, and the most important thing of all...cleaning. (And no, mom was not rocking in the corner, but despite not being able to remember a lot of details, "they just all seemed to smash together into one big tired", she did tell me that she remembers not having time to clean.
That may be the other reason I got a free ticket. "Free" being a description for something that costs, but what, you are never quite sure. My sister has a nice new home. Not huge, not ostentatious, but a good happy new home. She and my brother in law built it almost 2 years ago. Same timing as the baby, they both came together. If they ever forget how old their child is, they can think of how old their house is, and then they will know. The most wonderful thing, in my opinion, about a new house is how easy it is to clean. Things slide off the smooth counter. Warm water wipes all your troubles away. It is easy! Unless you haven't had time to really clean since your child was born, which in this case, was almost 2 years ago.
I want to be clear on one point here. My sister is very neat. She is a careful clean health conscious person. I can't really call her a woman, because she is my younger sister, and that would make me something older that a woman. Which I am not. I am barely an adult sometimes, how can I be an older woman. Let's drop that line right now. Getting back to her...My sister is an organic certification specialist for WA state. She is very careful about what she allows into her home. For example, there is no bleach, no 409, no Lysol all purpose cleaner. There is no scrubbing bubbles. There is no --Lots Of Stuff I use-- to clean with every day in my job and in my home! This makes for a difficult situation when your older sister comes to hang out for a long weekend with you and your baby and baby's grandma. What am I to do? I am not mom, I am not grandma... so that makes me a number three on the baby's list of choices standing in front of her. I guess that is better than being a number 2. But still...
So a cleaning diva such as myself becomes confounded when faced with cleaning jobs to be done, (i had a long weekends worth of time on my hands you know), and lack of appropriate cleaning tools to do them with. There was no razor scraper for the top of the solid surface stove they swore was doomed for life. There was no 409 for the outside of the fridge, and even if there was, not one micro fibber rag could be found. I had to focus all my energy on over coming these, and other obstacles in the pursuit of being useful to my sister. My favorite moment was when she said she just could not get the bathtub and fiberglass surround cleaned. I asked for a shower cleaner, of which there was none. I asked for a scrubby brush. Again, nothing. All we had to work with was eco-friendly cleaners, and not many of those, and some old rags and a blue scotch pad. She assured me the scotch pad had been applied, adnasium.
Imagine my joy at 11:30 pm, after several glasses of wine, when I showed her the triumphantly cleaned tub. Apparently the lavender dish soap has some grease fighting bang to it. That, accompanied with the blue scotch pad and my brute strength and non-mommy no interruption time.... and you have a tub that looks like new! Yes, I had many small triumphs that weekend. Explaining that pink stuff can be killed with bleach and water, or, if that is not good for the earth, a vinegar solution kills bacteria as well. Describing the uses of microfiber rags and hot water, which can pump up the power of any eco-friendly product.
I almost missed my bus, (which was her car), to the air port when I decided I would take my final shower in her bathroom. This master bathroom is a place that not many people visited. It did not get the cursory cleaning before the relatives came. Cleaning, meaning wipe down with a paper towel and some patchouli scented sticks stuck in a pretty oil bottle. I was in a rush for time, what with the plane leaving soon, but I felt I had not done enough, not helped out this tired working mom who I cherish, even if she is my sister. Into the bathroom I snuck, with a razor blade I had purchased at Super Wal-Mart the day before, tucked into my towel. (They apparently did not believe in those either). I disrobed, and entered the shower with my blade.
Now, you can think what you may, but far from that being a cry for help, I was being efficient, I promise. While I let the hot water and good for you farmers market soap, but terrible for shower walls . . . clean me, the steam and hot water relaxed the blanket of soap scum that had accumulated on the walls and floor of said shower. To say I could write my name in it, would be an understatement. Once clean myself, I set to work running the razor blade, at a low angle, methodically down the walls of the shower, past the curve at the floor where scum likes to rest the most, and on to the floor. Before I was done the floor of the shower looked like someone had been whittling sandalwood soap, the shavings had to be removed in handfuls!
By the time I was done, I had people frantically knocking on the door, then later pounding, about the time and we had to go and hurry hurry! My trained eye had underestimated the time I needed to de-soap scum the shower . . . but it was worth every hurried second to give my little sister the only practical thing I brought with me that weekend, peace of mind. Knowing that she could sit and read with her little baby a bit longer, not fretting about lurking cleaning chores was satisfying. But not half as wonderful as seeing the look of amazement on her face when I proved to her that YES, I could make her shower shine, and I am right about everything. She never said that I was, but being her older sister, I know that that is what she was thinking.
