To clean or not to clean?

I've been raised to be a clean-freak. I had no choice in the matter. My mother should host one of those 'How clean is your house' tv shows, where the ladies wear frilly gloves, have heaps of sass, and  make speed-vacuuming a sport.

There is method to her madness. She instilled in us that a clean, organised house leads to a clean, organised mind. Being clean = being zen. It's true. It's our therapy. Put it this way, when I was 6 years old and couldn't understand why my mum and sister were having a big, gal-pal chin wag together without me, I dramatically emptied my handkerchief draw on the floor of my room and spent an hour folding them all perfectly. So therapeutic. It made me feel better instantly (Turns out my mum was telling my sis all about the birds and the bees, hence, my young self was not invited to that party). To this day, when things get a bit much, I still choose folding/scrubbing/organising as my 'feel better' elixir . I just lurrvves me some cleaning!

So you can imagine the adjustment I've had to undergo since the arrival of our beloved Sticky Baby.

He's called Sticky Baby for a reason. I think like most bubbalinos, he is MESS personified! Its' been a wonderful teaching tool for me. I have come in leaps and bounds when it comes to letting things slide in the cleaning department.

It still takes a lot for me to watch him massage chocolate pudding into his high chair. Or reduce a rusk to chalky smitherines (proof for y'all in the piccie above). Or apply sweet potato puree as if it were a La Mer face mask. Or squeeze a segment of banana until it squishes out from each gap in his tiny fingers...And then rub all of the above on the collar of my shirt or the sleeve of my blouse when he comes in for a cuddle. 

And that, ladies and gents, makes all the mess in the world worthwhile!

Thanks to my mum, I am a whiz with a broom and a mop, so any mess Sticky Baby makes is dealt with swiftly and efficiently. Before you know it, the sweet smell of Pine-o-clean fills the house once again. Ahhhh, cleaning, the drug-o-choice for the women in my family!