Wanted: Maid

Wanted: Maid

I enjoy house cleaning like I enjoy my OB/GYN visits and curbing my dogs: I don’t. I make this statement because my home is for sale thanks to a confluence of events, which were further aggravated by my family.

For those of you who have either bought, sold or walked through an open house, you know what this means. My house has to be clean 24/7 until we get an offer that sticks.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a maid like The Jeffersons or Brady Bunch. Therefore, it falls on my son and I to keep it clean and all I have to say about that is, “WHAT A PAIN IN THE BUTT!!!” I own a 1,572 sq. ft. home with a 3,000+ sq. ft. lot and a detached two-car garage.
My teen-age son is virtually zero help unless I light a fire under his little behind veiled with promises to remove privileges such as no Boy Scout activities, zero TV and forget about the computer … his currency.
All this so I can get top dollar for a home I thought I would be able to own until at least 2018, when my son graduates from high school.
A clean house starts with my room
From time to time, I watch “Hoarders” with awe and wonder at how someone’s home could accumulate so much crap. I just can’t do that. However, my room, particularly my side of the room, was beginning to look like an episode of Hoarders. I kid you not that I was unable to get to my side of the bed without stepping over a rapture pile that I couldn’t kick out of the way.
I followed my mother’s example. My brother’s room was a disaster area. The only time she could clean it out was when my brother wasn’t home. If he was home, the blood curdling screams and pleadings from my brother were very unpleasant to say the least. I did this with my son and also did this with my husband when he was alive. He hoarded something fierce and the only way I was able to keep up was when he wasn’t around.

I recently cleaned my son’s room over President’s Day weekend, aka, Operation: Not in my house. His room looked like a scene from Freaky Friday, the extreme teen version. It took me all day and I filled a 42-gallon contractor’s trash bag while my son was enjoying himself on a Boy Scout snow trip. He has yet to miss anything I threw out.
Fact was I didn’t lead by example. I demanded a clean room but my room looked like a pit, a rummage sale gone bad. The only reason I cleaned it was because I wanted to garner top dollar for my home. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a rug on my side of the bed! Wow! I had forgotten what carpet on my side of the bed looked like. What’s funny is that pile of laundry now sits somewhere between my closet and the laundry room. As long as they don’t open the closet door, I’m good. Whew.
Off-white living room carpet???
Neither of us like that carpet from the day we moved in. Plans were to replace it with wood flooring until we discovered a slab leak two days after we moved in. The money that was to pay for our remodel went into a repipe; hence, the steam cleaner purchase for our living room rug.
We continued our tradition of taking our shoes off inside the house to minimize carpet dirt but the stress of late has been so bad, I stopped keeping up regularly, i.e., at least once a quarter.
The stains were to die for. The carpet had gone from bright off-white to a dull grey with black and brown spots but I had an open house the next day. Normally, it used to take me three hours to clean the rug. I was very detailed oriented but I didn’t have the luxury of time so I got it clean in 1.5 hours. It looked like I spent three hours.
I need Alice
I hate laundry. I usually have a house cleaner, Genevieve, who I pay $20/hour from time to time to help me with laundry and heavy cleaning but I’ve been quite broke lately. Consequently, my laundry room is piled higher and ever deeper with an amazing amount of laundry for two people. It’s so much laundry we can barely open the laundry room door. My husband was king of laundry. My kids and I joke about calling their father to come back at least once a month to do laundry because
nobody does it better.
Eventually, though, I did bring Genevieve in to help with my daughter’s room because it was more than I could handle. She did an amazing job in a short period of time. She even had time to clean my kitchen. That meant I didn’t have to stay up past midnight. I so appreciate her.

The backyard got straightened out after my wall shrub flopped over on top of my bougainvillea in December. The after picture looks much better. I abated everything along that entire wall and started an herb garden.

In February, I rummaged through everything in my garage enough to squeeze my car back into it and empty a pod of even more crap so I could properly stage the house. If we must move out I’ll need to rummage through it again, and giveaway good stuff and dump the crap.
My house now looks terrific, including my bathroom that I went through literally with a toothbrush. It’s a shame I have to relinquish ownership but my prayer is a generous philanthropist/investor will come along and allow us to rent it for below fair market value until December 2018.
Where’s God?
Obviously, God thinks I need to build more character so here we are. It’s now in God’s hands. Who have I but God? I have more than enough faith to believe He will do for us what we can’t do for ourselves. All I need to do is look back and remember what he has done for us. He is with us. I am His favorite. His Word reminds me who and whose I am:

   “I know you are pleased with me, for you have not let my enemies triumph over me.” Psalms 41:11, NLT
“You love justice and hate evil. Therefore God, your God, has anointed you pouring out the oil of joy on you more than on anyone else.” Psalm 45:7, NLT
  “Listen to me, O royal daughter; take to heart what I say. Forget your people and your family far away. For your royal husband delights in your beauty; honor him, for he is your Lord.” Psalm 45:10-11, NLT

I believe, Lord. I believe you are my Shepherd. I shall not want. To you be all glory, honor and praise now and forevermore. Amen.

Boricua Confidential chronicles my new life as a single mom of two kids after my husband died from cancer on our son’s seventh birthday. Join me on this journey of change, revival, reformation, discovery and new direction ordered of God. Being a widow ain’t easy, that’s for sure. I refuse to rollover and die. Quite the contrary. I intend to thrive from this crazy life. You can’t keep this woman down. If I’m down, I won’t be for long.

God created me to bounce back. Watch me.


  1. Wow. I sympathize with your plight of having to keep your your clean 24/7. If I wanted to sell my house I’d have to save up my leave and take two weeks off from work to clean and paint and do repairs. So right now I can’t afford to sell my house. But best of luck to you and your son for now and for the future – although I perceive that with your faith, there is much more than luck at work in your life. Blessings to you!

  2. I can’t watch a single episode of Hoarders 🙁
    Haven’t moved in years and have collected, oh, quite a bit of stuff that needs tossing. Like you, I need a good maid. A real good maid. Once, I did have a maid. She only charged $10 for a couple of hours. $10! But she talked as much or more than she cleaned. My husband said he’d rather vacuum and mop himself. So I let him 😉
    Love all the Psalms!

  3. Good luck! Fortunately the times we’ve moved it’s always been from a place we were renting, so we only had to clean from top to bottom once, once all of our furniture and other belongings were moved out. I keep a clean house all of the time, but I can’t imagine the pressure of having to keep an Open House worthy clean house. Good luck – I hope all goes well!

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