Remember that movie “The Money Pit” about a couple who bought a house that literally started to fall apart bit by bit the moment they moved in? Well, that house has nothin’ on mine…
I was talking to some friends of mine this morning who are all moms of autistic boys and I was alittle surprised to hear that every one of them was embarrassed about the condition of their home. No wonder we’ve been meeting at the same diner every Thursday morning for the past three months! None of us wants the others to see the disaster we call “home”!
And we each thought that we were the only one who felt that way.
Now, to be honest, I can’t blame my “Oscar Madison” ways on autism. There are too many old college roommates who could…and would…rat me out if I tried. I was always a bit of a slob. Not my person, but my surroundings.
I’m clean. The clothes I am wearing are clean. The clothes I washed are clean and folded…but they are all over the place, never making it to their designated drawers. And there’s always a pile still to be washed…
Dishes never go away. Ever. With ‘C’s diet, I am forever standing at the sink washing, using, rewashing and re-using every pot, pan, plate and utensil in the house. I don’t have the energy or the guts to move the “concert” that ‘C’ assembled in the den, so it gets vacuumed around (but not often enough). I am way, way behind in those traditional “spring/fall cleaning” chores, like chandeliers and outside windows.
And that’s not even counting the real “trailer trash” effects of this pit. Like the tempermental leak in the den roof. It is unpredictable. We can be bone-dry in a hurricane, or be scrambling for a bucket in a drizzle. That’s always fun during a holiday dinner… How about the wallpaper that’s been up so long that its decided to come down on its own? Or the bathroom and hallway wallpaper that was really stuck on there for life…until ‘C’ ripped off a piece of it? And let’s not get started on the fact that our bedroom has been a Southwest theme so long, that I fear its going to be back in style soon if we don’t change it!
Before autism, I was a slob who had cleaning at the bottom of my list. Now, it’s not even on my list. Why put it at the bottom and have it taunt me there? I know I’ll never get to it. When it gets bad enough that it can’t be ignored…and we all know when that point is…it will get done.
How universal is this lack of housekeeping among autistic families with young kids? What rationale do you use to get past the guilt of it?
For me, it’s simply a matter of priorities. I love and appreciate a clean house… and had one every two weeks until the woman I hired to do it gave up the business after 6 years. My kids and their schedules come first, and ‘C’s diet takes up a lot of time. Laundry can’t wait and neither can groceries. So cleaning has to wait. Unless I want to give up what little sleep I get.
Should the extra time, attention, and money required for raising an autistic child give you a “pass” on what’s expected in the housekeeping department…assuming, of course, that the health inspector isn’t at the door? Do you avoid hosting social functions because you’ve neglected your home?
And, most importantly, do you have room in your home for me and my family when my own Money Pit actually implodes?
