The best defense is a good offense

Floors vacuumed - check
Kitchen clean - check
Horizontal surfaces dusted - check
Bathroom sparkling - Uh, not yet, but it will be (Right after I finish writing this. A girl's gotta have her priorities)
Clothes picked up off the floor - see above
Child sufficiently napped and in appropriate clothing - She will be, dammit, if I have any say in the matter (which I don't always have, but today I'm willing to take up that fight)

ETA - 5:30pm

Who's visiting? Heads of state? Foreign dignitaries? V.I.P.s?

Not quite.

My mother in law is coming.

(The mother in law is coming! The mother in law is coming!)

My mother in law is coming over this afternoon to watch Chicky while I run off to play - ahem - work with dogs and my husband plays in an Ultimate Frisbee game. She'll be here for a grand total of about two and a half hours but as of this morning my house could have been considered a Superfund sight so it must be thoroughly cleaned.

It was a long weekend after all and no one wants to clean house on a beautiful, three day weekend. My yard looks fabulous but my house? Eh, not so much.

Why must my home be squeaky clean? Well...

First of all, I love my mother in law, let's be very clear about that. I love both my in-laws. They're really great people who have been extremely helpful since Chicky came along. My MIL stayed with me after Chicky was born, helping keep the house orderly and making sure I was getting the hang of breastfeeding (she is a former La Leche League leader). She and my FIL have never declined to care for Chicky if we have a scheduling conflict - like tonight - or if we need a night out to ourselves unless they have other plans that couldn't be broken. We rely on them quite a bit.

But, let's face it, she's still my husband's mother. Mr. C can convince himself that his mother doesn't judge me on any level, but he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. My MIL is as judgmental as any other mother. And us mothers? We're a tough bunch of bitches some times.

She's actually a fairly easy going person. For instance, she knows we have a lot of pets and pets mean lots of hair, so it's not like she's running around my house with a white glove testing the piano for grime. But this is the woman who, shortly after Chicky was born, told me how she painted her entire house when she had an infant and a pre-schooler at home. You know, because she felt like it.

With an infant and a pre-schooler.

Needless to say, my MIL would not be understanding of the time I spent blogging or catching up on celebrity gossip when I could be reading "More, More, More, said the Baby" for the six hundred and eighty second time or digging around in the yard educating my child on the wonders of nature. Or at the very least, keeping my house clean. Not spotless, just clean.

And my house is still far from that. Only four more house until she arrives. Better get crackin' on that toilet.


(Thank you for your reassuring comments on my last post. Your words of encouragement meant everything to me. For real. I wish I could send you all cookies.)