You know you're a homeowner when

you actually clean all the fucking time. Seriously. I'm being honest here about the cleaning.

It's not like we lived in a sty before buying our own house. I always made sure everything was clean underneath the clutter. Dishes got done on a regular basis. Wasn't always daily. Toys were picked up when necessary. This has gotten better now we make the boys do the task while threatening their lives. Laundry is still a hangup since it never ends.

We've had hardwoods before so it's nothing new for us in the house. Easier to clean, whether from a swiffer, broom or vacuum cleaner. Must be kept clean thanks to all the sand the boys bring home from the various playgrounds we visit.

Clutter is going down except in our room and the office. I blame both on Jason. Every time I get our bedroom under control I open more boxes of his shit which ends up in our room until a place is found. Boxes still inhabit the office. Most of them have been opened, poked through a bit, then promptly set aside. More crap I don't know where it goes. All the crap, though, is confined behind walls with a door.

The walls are getting pictures hung. Not many since the house is too small for everthing to be on the walls. I'm liking the simplification this move has made. I'm liking less on the walls. Our house would feel crowded with everything up. With clutter in every corner or on every surface. A few days ago I removed all boxes from the living areas. I don't mind if things aren't totally unpacked. I minded them staying unpacked next to the sofa for all to witness.

The floors have been mopped twice already. I've scrubbed the bathroom down and then some. One day I'll get the tub clean. The kitchen smells of lemon from today's cleaning. The floor is missing various spills which accumulated in the last few days. All of this I do inbetween the screams, the wails, the fighting, the hugs, the demands.

I have a house which is trying to stay clean. I have a house which I happily clean even while I'm cursing while doing so. I've never been much of a clean freak. I never will but I don't necessarily mind cleaning our 1950's brick house because it's actually ours. Not the military's. Not a rental complex. Not mom's or even Aramco's. Holy fuck.

This is what happens when you become a homeowner. That stupid pride in ownership crap. Gah.