They're like oil and water. Like a peanut butter, bleu cheese sandwich. Like orange juice poured over your Cheerios. Actually, I bet a lot of pregnant women have indulged in those gastronomic delicacies. But the point is, when you're like me, and you thrive on order and cleanliness, it can be very, very difficult to surrender that control.
I get a tremendous amount of satisfaction out of cleaning and organizing my home. I feel that a house should be a sanctuary. A place of order and calm. When I have visual order and clarity, I have mental order and clarity. Now I find that I must rely on Mr. E to do the tasks I no longer can. Just washing dishes, dusting, and doing laundry are now off-limits to me.
I must confess that I cheated today when Mr. E was out running errands. I straightened up the kitchen a little bit. I couldn't take knowing that there was old food in the fridge and that the counter had crumbs on it. I'm back on the couch now, trying to make up for it.
Thankfully I have a partner who is very understanding, and puts forth a lot of effort to do the things I can't. He doesn't argue with me about what needs to be done. He just knows it's easier to do the things I ask of him so I don't freak out. I'm very lucky to have such an understanding and capable guy.
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