Grasshopper New Media Presents...

I am in the zone. You know what I mean, don’t you? I have my headphones in. I have the kids all in bed. I have the house quiet and now I’m moving as fast as I can to make up for all the damage done to my house during the day. There’s laundry to take upstairs to be folded. There’s floors to vacuum, sweep and mop. There’s dishes to be put into the dishwasher. There’s shoes all over that need to be put into the closet. I could go on but I think you get the idea.

I’m in the zone.

I’m moving so fast that I’m starting to enjoy myself. I’m grinning to myself and hoping that no one sees how much fun I’m getting out of cleaning my house. No one is interrupting me or making messes behind me. I remember reading somewhere about the runner’s high that people get. This must be the housekeeper’s high. My heart is racing, my legs are moving so fast they’d be blurry and giving off smoke if I was a cartoon.

I race upstairs to bring the zone up there and I see my three month-old daughter sleeping in the swing. Eyes closed loosely, lips still moving as if she’s dreaming of nursing.

Suddenly my heart slows down. My feet stop moving. My hands lay idle at my sides and my heart is now racing for a completely different reason.

I’m now in the mother zone and I can’t but think that this even better than the housekeeper’s high.

by Jen McKinnon

Photo graciously provided by andrea joseph’s illustrations, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved