Not As Impressive As It Looks

When I said that I read a lot, or mention that I blog, or say something about writing some web content, people seem impressed. Not, you know, because they've read my brilliant writing but because they note that I have three small kids. And no nanny, cleaning lady or daycare. (I realize that this is perfectly normal in most parts of the world. But not so much around here.) They wonder where I find the time.

I've recently made room in my world for exercise again. And I do read a lot. And blog (though not as much lately). And write. And sometimes I play with my children. And I feed them. And I make sure they don't kill each other. I realized, as I incorporated exercise into my life again, that it's possible to fit in the things I really want to do.

What I don't really do is clean. I mean, there are clean dishes (a trick since our current dishwasher seems to have died recently), clean clothes and clean sheets. There's usually not any mold growing in the toilet. I try to sweep after every meal, if only to prevent ChunkyMonkey eating food from the floor. But I'm not a cleaner. I have to be inspired to mop, or to dust or to clean under the couches.

I LIKE it when things are clean, but given a choice between reading and vacuuming, the book is going to win.

But I never know how to answer people when they seem to be impressed with what I can do in a day. Do I admit that my house is messy and cluttered? That my kids ask me what I'm doing every time I mop? That my kids watch too much TV? Or do I just give them a smug smile?