Confessions of a dishwasher-aholic

* this face says “clean the kitchen mom…”

Welp, I caved. It finally happened. I am officially a dishwasher-aholic.

Now before you start getting all these crazy ideas that I envision myself as a high-and-mighty productive housewife, you need to understand just how little I do on a daily basis. I mean really.

Today my daughter had her 6 month check-up and I cut her finger and toenails, I even did my hair and makeup! And I’m here patting myself on the back for a ‘productive day’. I mean REALLY.

I am a person who is prone to funks. Ruts and I are like twizzlers and sprite. Strawberry and milkshakes. Chocolate and peanut butter. You get the picture.

So when I wake up and I see my list a mile long for the day, a little voice tells me that it’s already a lost cause, there’s no way I can possibly accomplish HALF of those things, so why even start?

If said rut enters my stream of conscience, it is quite possible that I will not attempt to do anything at all, perhaps leaving the dishes for two or maybe three days. During which time the kitchen has gone from hideous, to revolting, to downright unsanitary.

Enter the dishwasher.

Now when I’ve dirtied the third spoon for my second cup of tea (don’t ask me how I do it) instead of laying it on the cutting board flecked with broccoli heads, I stick it straight in that dishwasher tray – and here’s the best part – CLOSE THE DOOR. Outta sight. And what’s that you say? I still have countertop space?! Why that’s joyous news!

So there you have it. It only took me 2 apartments and a 6 month old baby long to try out a dishwasher and there’s no going back. So if I do nothing except entertain said baby and a load of dishes, hey, that’s probably more than yesterday.

Sanitarily yours,



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