I wish I had one of those houses where people could wander in at any moment. Instead, my house regularly looks like the floor of the Duggar family van after an extended road trip.
The most obvious solution to housekeeping woes is: invite guests. The social pressure to pretend you don’t get down to using serving spoons for the sugar bowl, or that you actually put dirty diapers in the trashcan is immense.
We had two rounds of guest, back to back. The first, friends, who we dragged out in the bitter cold to go hiking. Then, my Mother-in-law from Germany, who wanted to experience an American Thanksgiving. Bingo. Enter my family, who’s girth enables an excessive amount of holiday chaos. So we watched The Macy Parade, and squeezed into a waaay too small of house for 31 warm bodies and about as many dishes. On Friday, we went Black Friday Shopping–to Old Navy, that was sporting half-off everything. We got stuck in a traditionally-appropriate-Black-Friday-length-line next to a Chatty Cathy who, about six-months before, got inspired to do a home-dye-job, then immediately gave up the trend. Saturday, was party-day, and the pressure was on. My mother-in-law–bless her!–was such help. She cooked up the hamburger for me, stuffed candy into Crochet’d monsters and put stickers on tables. (Nothing says “Welcome to America” quite like cooking 10 pounds of sloppy joe meat.)
Sunday, we drove back up to Virginia, and Monday went to our favorite Christmas tree farm, Lowe’s. Tuesday, we drove down to Charlotte, where my Mother-in-law flew away home, to content herself with experiencing future American Holidays via The Family Stone and Miracle on 34th Street.