Have You Seen My ...Everything?

I hired an organizer to come to our house and look at the mess we have made. Being terrified that someone might actually witness our mess, we have been holed up in our house keeping guests at bay. She showed up with her tools and advice of what we needed to do. It was mostly what I expected, until she said, "I see most of you are perfectionists." Silently I nodded, but in my head I thought, very maturely I might add, "Are not!" Instead,I remained quiet, nodding, listening to the rationale of what led her to this ridiculous belief. As she listed out the symptoms of what caused her belief, I had an "aha" moment. Turns out most of us are perfectionists. She was insightful to our personalities in other ways, as well. "You prefer clean surfaces?" she looked at me and asked. Again I nodded. I wondered how she could tell, when clearly we didn't have one square inch of clean surfaces to be found anywhere in our house. I hadn't seen the top of our tables, counters or floors since we had moved in.
I had slowly been losing my mind over the past six months due to the clutter that seemed endless and perpetual in our home. The truth of the matter is, I have never lived in a clean house. When the kids were babies I spent all my time feeding, running and chasing the little buggers. I washed my diapers myself, and with three babies in diapers at a time, I had a deep and profound relationship with my washer. The only other appliance I loved as much was the dishwasher, which never fully got emptied, running sometimes several times a day.
As a single mother, I worked 12-16 hours a day, coming home only to pick up the kids, packing them in our dilapidated Ford, running from soccer to Girl Scouts to football, then band. By the time we got home I fell in a heap in the bed to get up and start over the next day. I began to feel that the dust was the only thing holding our house together. The basement floor was made of unfinished laundry, the kitchen puttied together by grease.
Moving to Texas brought high school, work and four senior years. I have loved having my kids close in age, until we had senior years back to back to back. It's a big thing for a kid, so all the pageantry, expectation, prom, pictures, retreats, all of it was a roller coaster of non stop requirements.
This brings us to our current life of living in the frat house, full of college age kids, smells no one should have to revisit once they leave college and of course the petting zoo that currently takes up residence here. I will tell you the vile smells, foul odors and distasteful dirt does not come from the animals. We clean up after them regularly and they live better than we do.
The organizer praised what we had done so far. This made her worth every dime. I needed the validation and hope that one day I might experience putting my car keys away, only to find them when I need them. The best thing she said was, "Done is perfect. You do not have to live like your house came out of magazine. Find what works and let that be enough." Since I was merely hoping to find a path to run the vacuum, I felt good about my newly lowered expectation from an outside source.
Sunday, we are all getting together and implementing the new system. Miss Organizer had encouraged me to take a team approach, since all the kids were grown. At first I laughed hysterically, until I realized she wasn't kidding. Now I am on board, ready to tackle one space at a time until everything here is done, including my "team" to help. Remembering that "done is perfect", the minute we are done, I plan to call of my friends and tell them my house looks perfect. I actually plan to tell everyone I meet on the street, too.
I planned to call and thank Miss Organizer, but I can't seem to find my phone...