Here is what is working for us right now, sex-wise, in this current stage of life (a mix of children, psychiatric side effects, birth control side effects, and general busyness/distractedness, plus a disagreement about how many children to have and various household frustrations): We have sex once a week on an established day.
On one hand, this is not my ideal. I don't like the Fussy Planning feeling of it, the twin-beds-and-scheduled-intimacy feeling. But that's just the feeling of the IDEA, if you see what I mean. It's not the feeling I get from the actual PRACTICE of it. And, happily, once the system is in place, there need be no more discussion of the idea.
I like the way I know it's going to happen and so can work on shifting mental gears: I always have The Next Five Things in my head, and so getting pawed at when I'm trying to focus on remembering chores/errands is unpleasant, but if I put The Sex on my list, I can mentally clear the schedule for it.
I like the way I know there will be a certain minimum of activity, no matter what happens the rest of the week. I like the way it keeps things up and running, so that an Inappropriate Resistance doesn't accumulate merely from a lack of usage.
I also like the way it makes me feel more free to say no, because I know HE knows there is that certain minimum he will definitely get.
I like the way it gives me a heads-up to add a little alcohol in advance.
This arrangement won't last forever. Every couple has Their Issue, and our issue is sex, and so I know it will be a problem again: in my experience, people who Want It More are NEVER really satisfied with someone who Wants It Less, no matter what arrangements are made: they're chronically dissatisfied, chronically certain other people are having better sex lives than they are. But this is working for now.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Hangover
I am a little drinky tonight, and there is on one hand NO NEED because mother-in-law is GONE GONE GONE, but on the other hand MIL Gone meant husband-in-law was looking for a little something, and okay it was kind of my idea too, but anyway vodka was involved, and I swear, vodka is the best thing to happen for sex since TEENAGERS.
Also, here is what I would like to know: why have I never had a hangover? It seems like if I drink enough to be all WOOOOOOOOOOO and tippy, I should pay the price in the morning. How much do you have to drink to get a hangover? Not that I want one. I'm just curious.
Also, here is what I would like to know: why have I never had a hangover? It seems like if I drink enough to be all WOOOOOOOOOOO and tippy, I should pay the price in the morning. How much do you have to drink to get a hangover? Not that I want one. I'm just curious.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Think of Her as Kevin Federline
This visit, I've had an insight into my mother-in-law's behavior. By profession, she works in a home for adults with severe developmental disabilities. I think this has given her an inflated sense of her own intelligence and competence. I think it has also given her certain habits of interpersonal behavior (i.e., telling adults what to do) that have carried over inappropriately into other, non-work relationships. And then let's say that first one a second time: I think it has given her an inflated sense of her own intelligence and competence.
I would also like to take a minute to speak badly of her former husband, my father-in-law. He doesn't get much press time because he's absent, and there aren't many good anecdotes about absence. One reason I put up with my mother-in-law is that as much as I dislike her, I approve of what she's doing: she's regularly traveling a long distance at considerable expense in order to visit her grandchildren. We never visit her, so she comes to us. I may feel like drugging her tea, but I like the concept of her visits, and I hope that if I drive my future daughters-in-law batcrap crazy (and I think statistically it's likely to happen with at least one) they will nevertheless support the concept of me visiting my grandchildren. And I hope I'll drive them nuts more in the "buys WAYYYYY too much crap we don't want or need" category rather than in the "rolls her eyes and does jazz hands until homicide seems like a viable option" category.
My father-in-law, on the other hand, hasn't ever visited. We let him know about each child's birth, and he doesn't respond. I send a packet of photos every month, and he doesn't respond. I send periodic email updates on how we're doing and how the kids are doing, and he doesn't respond. I send an annual Christmas package (this is something I go back and forth on, also annually) and he never responds. The only time we hear from him is every couple of years when he emails me to tell me about his journey to find himself, and to place blame on everyone and everything except himself for his inexplicable behavior (it was a childhood brain illness! it was his upbringing! it's because everyone spreads lies about him!). Then he disappears for another couple of years.
You know how at first it was so appalling that Britney Spears married that pinehole Kevin Federline, and then pretty soon it was like, "I never thought I'd say this but Britney Spears is making Kevin Federline look good." My father-in-law is the Britney Spears to my mother-in-law's Kevin Federline.
I would also like to take a minute to speak badly of her former husband, my father-in-law. He doesn't get much press time because he's absent, and there aren't many good anecdotes about absence. One reason I put up with my mother-in-law is that as much as I dislike her, I approve of what she's doing: she's regularly traveling a long distance at considerable expense in order to visit her grandchildren. We never visit her, so she comes to us. I may feel like drugging her tea, but I like the concept of her visits, and I hope that if I drive my future daughters-in-law batcrap crazy (and I think statistically it's likely to happen with at least one) they will nevertheless support the concept of me visiting my grandchildren. And I hope I'll drive them nuts more in the "buys WAYYYYY too much crap we don't want or need" category rather than in the "rolls her eyes and does jazz hands until homicide seems like a viable option" category.
My father-in-law, on the other hand, hasn't ever visited. We let him know about each child's birth, and he doesn't respond. I send a packet of photos every month, and he doesn't respond. I send periodic email updates on how we're doing and how the kids are doing, and he doesn't respond. I send an annual Christmas package (this is something I go back and forth on, also annually) and he never responds. The only time we hear from him is every couple of years when he emails me to tell me about his journey to find himself, and to place blame on everyone and everything except himself for his inexplicable behavior (it was a childhood brain illness! it was his upbringing! it's because everyone spreads lies about him!). Then he disappears for another couple of years.
You know how at first it was so appalling that Britney Spears married that pinehole Kevin Federline, and then pretty soon it was like, "I never thought I'd say this but Britney Spears is making Kevin Federline look good." My father-in-law is the Britney Spears to my mother-in-law's Kevin Federline.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
MIL Report, Day 8
My mother-in-law has the greatest respect for a former co-worker, EVEN THOUGH the former co-worker is a Mormon. Despite being a Mormon, that former co-worker is a real good person in many ways!
My mother-in-law didn't vote for Obama, herself, not because she's racist. She thinks it would be GOOD to someday have A Black in office! Just not THIS PARTICULAR Black. The fact that she didn't vote for him reflects positively on her: she is SO AWARE that Blacks = People Too, she can even distinguish one from another!
I was looking for a puzzle piece. She said archly that if I cleaned under my couch she thought I'd find a WHOLE LOT of missing things.
I brought up a bag of chocolate chips from the supply in the downstairs pantry, which is located in the part of the basement reserved for storage and workshop. She commented she'd noticed I wouldn't need to buy chocolate chips for a good long time, heavens no! When was she inspecting the pantry, I wonder?
I came home from the store. She asked what AMAZING BARGAINS I'd found today. Jazz hands and rolling eyes.
She said she needed to know where our hand mixer was. I guess I don't expect her to keep a mental inventory of everything in our kitchen, but I think we've had the "We don't have a hand mixer" conversation more than half a dozen times now, so I'd expect it to sink in eventually. Instead, when I said "We don't have a hand mixer," she made this face:
Except her eyes were way buggier, and rolling around in her head, and she swung her face from side to side in addition to clapping her hands to the sides of it, and she made a loud strangling sound. I said, "Yes, I don't know how, but somehow we've managed to survive all these years without one. It's a wonder any of us are alive." I said it like I was being funny. I was not feeling funny.
During dinner, she said out of the blue that she'd once been to this restaurant where they had "Lumpy mashed potatoes" on the menu. She couldn't figure out WHY anyone would WANT lumpy potatoes. That is just NUTS. Why would you BRAG that your mashed potatoes had lumps? She supposed it proved they weren't from a box, but LUMPS? Bleah! ...Do I need to specifically say that at this dinner we were eating mashed potatoes and that they contained the occasional lump, or do you know my MIL by now?
My mother-in-law didn't vote for Obama, herself, not because she's racist. She thinks it would be GOOD to someday have A Black in office! Just not THIS PARTICULAR Black. The fact that she didn't vote for him reflects positively on her: she is SO AWARE that Blacks = People Too, she can even distinguish one from another!
I was looking for a puzzle piece. She said archly that if I cleaned under my couch she thought I'd find a WHOLE LOT of missing things.
I brought up a bag of chocolate chips from the supply in the downstairs pantry, which is located in the part of the basement reserved for storage and workshop. She commented she'd noticed I wouldn't need to buy chocolate chips for a good long time, heavens no! When was she inspecting the pantry, I wonder?
I came home from the store. She asked what AMAZING BARGAINS I'd found today. Jazz hands and rolling eyes.
She said she needed to know where our hand mixer was. I guess I don't expect her to keep a mental inventory of everything in our kitchen, but I think we've had the "We don't have a hand mixer" conversation more than half a dozen times now, so I'd expect it to sink in eventually. Instead, when I said "We don't have a hand mixer," she made this face:
Except her eyes were way buggier, and rolling around in her head, and she swung her face from side to side in addition to clapping her hands to the sides of it, and she made a loud strangling sound. I said, "Yes, I don't know how, but somehow we've managed to survive all these years without one. It's a wonder any of us are alive." I said it like I was being funny. I was not feeling funny.
During dinner, she said out of the blue that she'd once been to this restaurant where they had "Lumpy mashed potatoes" on the menu. She couldn't figure out WHY anyone would WANT lumpy potatoes. That is just NUTS. Why would you BRAG that your mashed potatoes had lumps? She supposed it proved they weren't from a box, but LUMPS? Bleah! ...Do I need to specifically say that at this dinner we were eating mashed potatoes and that they contained the occasional lump, or do you know my MIL by now?
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Minivans
I don't know WHY people are always making fun of how unsexy minivans are. They are WAY easier to have sex in than regular cars.
MIL Report, Day 5
Marie asked if knowing I could blog each thing my MIL said made it easier to deal with. YES. In fact, it makes it like a GAME. She says something and I think, "Yay!" and I jot it down. If she goes too long without saying anything, I start getting anxious: "I'll have nothing to say! I'll have to say she's being fine and there's nothing to report!" It reminds me of the fun of blogging dieting/exercising/cleaning stuff: shared sorrow is doubled joy.
And so dawns Day 5. Ah, Day 5. Day 5 is when, if she were staying a week, I'd be thinking, "I THINK I can make it. Just two more days." The time she came for 2.5 weeks, I was thinking...well, I was thinking some dark, dark thoughts, and they involved shovels and moonlit fields and mysterious disappearances. For this visit, when there are 10 days but only if I count the arrival day, when she didn't arrive until after lunch, and the departure day, when she's leaving early in the morning---and I DO INDEED count those days, not with other houseguests but with her---I'm pretty sure I can make it but goshy-gee 7 days would be better.
Day 5 is, I think, the day she settles in. She's not feeling nervous or awkward anymore.
1. I bought 4yo daughter two 2-packs of belts (on 75% off!) at Target, not because the child NEEDS four more belts but because I couldn't decide between the two 2-packs (and because they were 75% off!). My mother-in-law had several things to say on the topic of belts, in addition to saying every 10 minutes or so, "Constance! [Child] needs those pants pulled up again!":
1a. I was saying the problem was that if I made 4yo daughter's belt tight enough to keep the pants up, it would bisect her. MIL: "Yes, well, the day will come when we'll all be looking back and saying remember when 4yo Daughter had no hips?" Er, no. I don't think we WILL be doing that. And I think that anyone who DOES choose to say such a thing can say hello to that shovel I mentioned earlier.
1b. We were at a store and 4yo daughter saw a belt she liked and asked if we could buy it. My MIL said to her, "I know a certain little girl who has puh-LENty of belts, considering she can only wear one at a time!"
2. My MIL wanted to go to Walmart to buy the kids their Christmas presents, to avoid shipping costs. (She takes stuff to one of those mailing stores. I don't think she realizes they charge A MILLION DOLLARS MORE than the already-expensive post office.) She suggested she get clothes, because "HEAVEN KNOWS they don't need any more TOYS."
3. Yesterday evening the topic of milk came up (no, I don't know how it came up---what am I, a court reporter?), and she said she just never could stand the taste of it, didn't like it as a child and didn't like it any better now. I said my mom didn't like it either, but that I did like it, and that I was hoping that would help me avoid the osteoporosis my mom's side of the family has had trouble with. My MIL: "Oh, I think that's more a problem with petite women, and I really don't think you qualify." Me: "...Uh...I... [*mind searching desperately for ANY response*] ...Well, both my grandma and my mom..." Mother-in-law, interrupting me to repeat herself: "I'm just saying, that's really only slightly-built women who have trouble with that, and I really don't think you qualify." Me: *picks up a notepad and pen and wrote it down*
3b. Have I mentioned before the way she will repeat her first point nearly verbatim, as if making a second point? Well, she does do that. She'll make her point, and if you argue with her, or if you make your own point, she'll repeat her own point JUST AS IF she is refuting your point or shoring up her own argument, but she is saying THE SAME THING. It is nearly impossible to continue the argument without following her lead and repeating your own point a second time.
And so dawns Day 5. Ah, Day 5. Day 5 is when, if she were staying a week, I'd be thinking, "I THINK I can make it. Just two more days." The time she came for 2.5 weeks, I was thinking...well, I was thinking some dark, dark thoughts, and they involved shovels and moonlit fields and mysterious disappearances. For this visit, when there are 10 days but only if I count the arrival day, when she didn't arrive until after lunch, and the departure day, when she's leaving early in the morning---and I DO INDEED count those days, not with other houseguests but with her---I'm pretty sure I can make it but goshy-gee 7 days would be better.
Day 5 is, I think, the day she settles in. She's not feeling nervous or awkward anymore.
1. I bought 4yo daughter two 2-packs of belts (on 75% off!) at Target, not because the child NEEDS four more belts but because I couldn't decide between the two 2-packs (and because they were 75% off!). My mother-in-law had several things to say on the topic of belts, in addition to saying every 10 minutes or so, "Constance! [Child] needs those pants pulled up again!":
1a. I was saying the problem was that if I made 4yo daughter's belt tight enough to keep the pants up, it would bisect her. MIL: "Yes, well, the day will come when we'll all be looking back and saying remember when 4yo Daughter had no hips?" Er, no. I don't think we WILL be doing that. And I think that anyone who DOES choose to say such a thing can say hello to that shovel I mentioned earlier.
1b. We were at a store and 4yo daughter saw a belt she liked and asked if we could buy it. My MIL said to her, "I know a certain little girl who has puh-LENty of belts, considering she can only wear one at a time!"
2. My MIL wanted to go to Walmart to buy the kids their Christmas presents, to avoid shipping costs. (She takes stuff to one of those mailing stores. I don't think she realizes they charge A MILLION DOLLARS MORE than the already-expensive post office.) She suggested she get clothes, because "HEAVEN KNOWS they don't need any more TOYS."
3. Yesterday evening the topic of milk came up (no, I don't know how it came up---what am I, a court reporter?), and she said she just never could stand the taste of it, didn't like it as a child and didn't like it any better now. I said my mom didn't like it either, but that I did like it, and that I was hoping that would help me avoid the osteoporosis my mom's side of the family has had trouble with. My MIL: "Oh, I think that's more a problem with petite women, and I really don't think you qualify." Me: "...Uh...I... [*mind searching desperately for ANY response*] ...Well, both my grandma and my mom..." Mother-in-law, interrupting me to repeat herself: "I'm just saying, that's really only slightly-built women who have trouble with that, and I really don't think you qualify." Me: *picks up a notepad and pen and wrote it down*
3b. Have I mentioned before the way she will repeat her first point nearly verbatim, as if making a second point? Well, she does do that. She'll make her point, and if you argue with her, or if you make your own point, she'll repeat her own point JUST AS IF she is refuting your point or shoring up her own argument, but she is saying THE SAME THING. It is nearly impossible to continue the argument without following her lead and repeating your own point a second time.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
MIL Report, Day 4
I will start with the boring part, which is that the visit is going Fine so far. It nearly always DOES go fine for the first few days, before she gets comfortable. I still don't like her, I'm not enjoying the visit, but I'm not SUFFERING. And it REALLY HELPS that this time we're doing things the way we usually do them (and looking like experts at it even though she disapproves) rather than doing things the way she would approve of them (and looking like total incompetents). All right, now for the venty examples:
1. 10yo son and 8yo son came home from school. SHE ASKED THEM if they'd done their homework, then reported to me: "I just got the old 'I did my homework on the bus'" and rolled her eyes. Which, um. I checked, and they HAD done their homework on the bus, and also? Why is she getting involved in this AT ALL?
2. 10yo son and 8yo son wanted to learn how to knit, so she taught them. My mom taught 8yo son last year; he hasn't knit since then but picked it up quickly. 10yo has never knit before. After no kidding LESS THAN AN HOUR she pulled me aside and said, "8yo Son may make a knitter. 10yo Son? No"---with a pfff and a totally dismissive tone. NICE. He's TEN YEARS OLD and this is his FIRST TIME KNITTING. And he was DOING IT: he has two inches of knitted stuff already.
3. We went to the store and she kept speaking firmly to the children. I wrote "sharply" there first, but it wasn't quiiiiiite sharp. BRISK, though, and authoritative. "4yo Son! Stop that! Come here and hold my hand! Come on now, you didn't get hurt!" And I gave 2yo son things to play with, and he was doing NO HARM and she kept taking things away from him. After I several times gave them back to him, she started instead lunging as if to take them, then correcting herself, then saying to me, "We'd better take those away from him, don't you think?" I'll repeat: NO HARM was being done to the items. And they were things _I_ was buying.
4. First she made several "funny" remarks about my bargain shopping. "Oh, Constance and her 75% off!" with a little head waggle and widened eyes and jazz hands. Then, later, she told a lonnnnng anecdote about her stupid sister who always buys stuff she doesn't need and doesn't like "but it was ON SALE!"---using "stupid sister" tone of voice. The "but it was ON SALE!" chorus was repeated half a dozen times as her stupid sister was stupider and stupider about her purchases, which---and I'm sure this was pure coincidence---my mother-in-law remembered had been 75% off. This for purchases made back when she and her sister lived at home with their parents, and in her sister's early homeowning days nearly 50 years ago.
5. At the table, in "I am repeating the tone of someone I saw on TV" voice: "Americans eat FAR too much salt!" (For the FIRST TIME EVER I pulled off the kind of response I always MEAN to give when she makes such pronouncements: I said "Mmmmmmmmmmm....salllllllllt.") This WHOLE salt thing is because she personally has high blood pressure and has been personally instructed to cut down on salt. ALL AMERICANS need to obey her medical instructions, because what SHE does is THE ONLY WAY TO DO THINGS. If she were diagnosed with diabetes, we would ALL need to have insulin shots and Americans would eat FAR too much sugar. If she were diagnosed with cancer, we would ALL need to have chemotherapy treatments and Americans get FAR too little radiation.
6. Now she's self-diagnosed herself allergic to eggs, too. No salt, no fat, no caffeine, no tomatoes, no eggs.
7. Regarding her cousin's panic attacks, she told me: "I said to her, 'Now there is just NO REASON for you to have a PANIC attack! WHY would you panic? You are JUST going to the GROCERY store!' I mean, for Pete's sake!"
1. 10yo son and 8yo son came home from school. SHE ASKED THEM if they'd done their homework, then reported to me: "I just got the old 'I did my homework on the bus'" and rolled her eyes. Which, um. I checked, and they HAD done their homework on the bus, and also? Why is she getting involved in this AT ALL?
2. 10yo son and 8yo son wanted to learn how to knit, so she taught them. My mom taught 8yo son last year; he hasn't knit since then but picked it up quickly. 10yo has never knit before. After no kidding LESS THAN AN HOUR she pulled me aside and said, "8yo Son may make a knitter. 10yo Son? No"---with a pfff and a totally dismissive tone. NICE. He's TEN YEARS OLD and this is his FIRST TIME KNITTING. And he was DOING IT: he has two inches of knitted stuff already.
3. We went to the store and she kept speaking firmly to the children. I wrote "sharply" there first, but it wasn't quiiiiiite sharp. BRISK, though, and authoritative. "4yo Son! Stop that! Come here and hold my hand! Come on now, you didn't get hurt!" And I gave 2yo son things to play with, and he was doing NO HARM and she kept taking things away from him. After I several times gave them back to him, she started instead lunging as if to take them, then correcting herself, then saying to me, "We'd better take those away from him, don't you think?" I'll repeat: NO HARM was being done to the items. And they were things _I_ was buying.
4. First she made several "funny" remarks about my bargain shopping. "Oh, Constance and her 75% off!" with a little head waggle and widened eyes and jazz hands. Then, later, she told a lonnnnng anecdote about her stupid sister who always buys stuff she doesn't need and doesn't like "but it was ON SALE!"---using "stupid sister" tone of voice. The "but it was ON SALE!" chorus was repeated half a dozen times as her stupid sister was stupider and stupider about her purchases, which---and I'm sure this was pure coincidence---my mother-in-law remembered had been 75% off. This for purchases made back when she and her sister lived at home with their parents, and in her sister's early homeowning days nearly 50 years ago.
5. At the table, in "I am repeating the tone of someone I saw on TV" voice: "Americans eat FAR too much salt!" (For the FIRST TIME EVER I pulled off the kind of response I always MEAN to give when she makes such pronouncements: I said "Mmmmmmmmmmm....salllllllllt.") This WHOLE salt thing is because she personally has high blood pressure and has been personally instructed to cut down on salt. ALL AMERICANS need to obey her medical instructions, because what SHE does is THE ONLY WAY TO DO THINGS. If she were diagnosed with diabetes, we would ALL need to have insulin shots and Americans would eat FAR too much sugar. If she were diagnosed with cancer, we would ALL need to have chemotherapy treatments and Americans get FAR too little radiation.
6. Now she's self-diagnosed herself allergic to eggs, too. No salt, no fat, no caffeine, no tomatoes, no eggs.
7. Regarding her cousin's panic attacks, she told me: "I said to her, 'Now there is just NO REASON for you to have a PANIC attack! WHY would you panic? You are JUST going to the GROCERY store!' I mean, for Pete's sake!"
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Pre MIL Visit Cleaning
Let us check in to see if the psychiatric medication (now a mix of Celexa and Wellbutrin) is working.
Pre MIL visit 2008: Removed everything from kitchen counters and scoured with gritty bleachy cleansing powder. Removed spiral stover burners and soaked/cleaned under-burner trays. Removed stove knobs for more thorough cleaning. Lifted stovetop to clean underneath and to get to the side edges. Pushed wet washcloth as far as I could reach under refrigerator. Took all spices off spice racks, wiped down shelves, wiped off each jar. Scrubbed inside of oven door. Washed floor on hands and knees with washcloth. Washed down cabinet doors. Took dishes/food off most visible shelves and wiped down shelves.
Pre MIL visit 2009: Wiped counters. Wiped the most visible stuff off the stovetop. Cleaned coffee pot. Put away some---but not all---of the Paper Pile that accumulates on the counter, more for my own privacy than to reduce the mess. Threw out the salad dressing that was still in the fridge from her last visit.
Pre MIL visit 2008: Used a damp washcloth to sponge the carpet edges where the vacuum cleaner couldn't quite reach.
Pre MIL visit 2009: Vacuumed wherever there wasn't stuff on the floor, which, if we are talking in terms of square footage, well...
Pre MIL visit 2008: Moved all furniture in every room. Put away all the little things that were underneath each piece, vacuumed up dust, then washed floors with a wet washcloth before replacing furniture.
Pre MIL visit 2009: Used foot to kick stuff out of sight further underneath the furniture.
Pre MIL visit 2008: Removed entire contents of bathroom and front hall closets. Cleaned and sorted and tossed.
Pre MIL visit 2009: Hid lubricating gel.
Pre MIL visit 2008: Used Lemon Pledge and tightly-stretched dustcloth to dust each many-grooved spindle of each wooden dining room chair.
Pre MIL vist 2009: Pushed chairs up to table.
Pre MIL visit 2008: Removed everything from kitchen counters and scoured with gritty bleachy cleansing powder. Removed spiral stover burners and soaked/cleaned under-burner trays. Removed stove knobs for more thorough cleaning. Lifted stovetop to clean underneath and to get to the side edges. Pushed wet washcloth as far as I could reach under refrigerator. Took all spices off spice racks, wiped down shelves, wiped off each jar. Scrubbed inside of oven door. Washed floor on hands and knees with washcloth. Washed down cabinet doors. Took dishes/food off most visible shelves and wiped down shelves.
Pre MIL visit 2009: Wiped counters. Wiped the most visible stuff off the stovetop. Cleaned coffee pot. Put away some---but not all---of the Paper Pile that accumulates on the counter, more for my own privacy than to reduce the mess. Threw out the salad dressing that was still in the fridge from her last visit.
Pre MIL visit 2008: Used a damp washcloth to sponge the carpet edges where the vacuum cleaner couldn't quite reach.
Pre MIL visit 2009: Vacuumed wherever there wasn't stuff on the floor, which, if we are talking in terms of square footage, well...
Pre MIL visit 2008: Moved all furniture in every room. Put away all the little things that were underneath each piece, vacuumed up dust, then washed floors with a wet washcloth before replacing furniture.
Pre MIL visit 2009: Used foot to kick stuff out of sight further underneath the furniture.
Pre MIL visit 2008: Removed entire contents of bathroom and front hall closets. Cleaned and sorted and tossed.
Pre MIL visit 2009: Hid lubricating gel.
Pre MIL visit 2008: Used Lemon Pledge and tightly-stretched dustcloth to dust each many-grooved spindle of each wooden dining room chair.
Pre MIL vist 2009: Pushed chairs up to table.
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