When my kids were younger, and there were seven in the house at one time, it was impossible to supervise any chore on a minute-by-minute basis. So when a child would come and tell me they were finished with something and wanted to run off and do something more fun than help around the house, I would frequently have the following conversation:
"Is it clean?" "Yes!"
"Are you SURE?" "YES!"
"Would I think it's clean? Because it isn't clean 'til I say so."
This would be followed either by silent chagrin or a bluff, depending on the day or child. After all, they COULD hope I wouldn't check, and sometimes they did win the gamble, especially since they were all gifted at asking at times when my hands were busy and I couldn't drop everything.
Last night my insomnia mated with my steroids, and despite a benedryl and some melatonin, I was wide awake at midnight, and very energetic. We were all sick last weekend, and NOTHING (including, I confess, the catbox) got cleaned. Even in my steroid-induced state I realized that I was unlikely to have the energy this weekend to do everything I need to do as well as I would like to, so I looked around and prioritized.
Babygirl and I did an excellent job two weeks ago. Dust is relatively unimportant. Woodwork only really needs wiping withing the range of our dirty fingers. And the dog hair has GOT to go.
By three AM I had done a very respectable job in the living room and dining room. I awoke this morning and cleaned the kitchen, one bathroom, and the side of the house that is perpetually under construction, including mopping all floors and stairs. My bedroom is swept, upstairs trash is ready to remove, and all I have left? It's the damned catbox.
But.....If I skipped ripping the stove apart to clean under the drip trays, and cleaning my bedroom did not actually include making my bed, and there's dust on the mantle, is it really clean?
It is if I say so.
I'll say it again: The key to having a good day is lowering your standards.