I'm a fan of housework.

Okay, so what prompted my previous random housekeeping post? Here goes. A few nights ago, I fell into bed - which, conveniently, was already unmade for me - in a heap of utter exhaustion.

The past few weeks have been crazy... good crazy, and then bad crazy. After "In-Law-la-Palooza" (my pet name for the fun, eventful week that the whole Griffin family gets together each summer,) both boys' numerous birthday shindigs, home air conditioner replacement, the 'Griffin Geyser" (my pet name for our busted water main which required the removal-but-not-yet-replacement of our driveway), radiator replacements in BOTH of our Dave Ramsey "cash cars"... have I left anything out? Oh yes, all of this with a weaning/teething toddler and talkative hiny-wiper-in-training in tow.

Back to the explanation.

So, I look up at my ceiling and what do I see? At first, I can't tell exactly what I am seeing because these light bulbs are entirely too dim. (How many times have I told Jeff we need to replace these lights with higher-watt bulbs?!)

Oh, I see... it's the entire cast of "G-Force" swinging from my fan blades.

Yes, clearly each of our five fan blades is spinning with a full-size guinea pig clinging to the end of it. I turn off the fan, which runs year-round, of course, and stand up on the bed to investigate.

Holy Mother of All Things Disgusting.

"My bad," I immediately forgive myself, as I realize it's just a series of huge grey balls of dust and allergens that has collected on the fan blades and has been whirling over my sneezy husband for who-knows-how-long. I called Jeff into our room because he HAD to see it. In other words, this was going to be a two-person job.

It took one person to hold the fan still while pulling out fresh Clorox wipes (guess who) and one person to scrape a year's worth of dust off each blade while trying not to get shrapnel in her contacts. After fifteen minutes, twenty wipies and the employment of the vacuum's brush attachment, the fan was clean. The light fixtures were also clean. Turns out the bulb wattage is just fine now that I can see through the glass.

So, I started wondering if I was the only one who does not have an Outlook reminder set to clean the fan blades... or wipe the baseboards... I got curious about how my friends schedule their housework and started wondering if my expectations of myself were too high or too low. I mean, it's not that my house is disgusting (aside from the occasional rodent-sized dust balls which HAS to be normal), it's just that I sometimes treat it like I treat my Honda, only giving it real attention when it starts rattling, smoking, or dripping oil.

I want to be better and I have come a really long way. I have actually made my bed FIVE days in a row now. Well, not this morning, now that I think about it because we had to meet at the playground really early. Okay, so ZERO days in a row, but you get my point.

I find this to be true in several areas of my life. I am good about keeping up with the fun stuff. I mean, my digital pictures of my kids (and I have THOUSANDS) are so organized even I can't believe it. I am pretty good at making playdates, or remembering to record "Tori and Dean." But, when it comes to some of the more significant or difficult things in life that keep the family and the home running, I sometimes wait until the problem is so big it DEMANDS my attention. This can be with my tone with Jeff, my sleep, my Bible study, my weight, time on the phone... anything. I am seeking God's help to bring these things to my attention before they get so bad that we aren't sure how we'll be able to fix it.

I am not sure where this post was or is going. I guess I am trying to say that my life is a ceiling fan.

If I allow it to keep spinning all the time, I won't notice all the crap gradually building up on it. My light will not shine as brightly as it should. It I take time to slow it down... or better yet... actually allow myself to be still, I will be able to take care of the guinea pig on the fan before it becomes the elephant in the room.