When bad things happen to good kitchens.

My kitchen regularly looks like it's been carpet bombed.

You'd think, that after six months without my beloved kitchen that I we would manage to clean up after myself ourselves. But, The Man and I  ... we're not so good about that. We weren't before in kitchen v1, we weren't in (rental) kitchen v1.5 and we're not in kitchen v2.

We're pigs. Which is why - while I feel guilty (I'm not 100% sure why), we have a housekeeper - a.k.a. The Angel. I adore her. It's a perfect arrangement, really. We pay her - and she cleans our house.

Sidebar: No, I didn't leave that (particular) pile of dishes for her. It was a much smaller pile of dishes, accompanied by a check.

Why do I feel guilty about having a housekeeper? Well, for the same reason I feel guilty that I don't stay home with The Boy full time and keep a perfect house. It's not "the way things are done".

I know. That makes no sense. What "way"? Which "things"? Well, the way my mother did them. The way her mother did them. The way my aunts and still several of my friends "do them".

I don't lose sleep over this. But I would like to get over the guilt. I would like to embrace that modern women have a unique and important flag to carry - that we *can* be good moms, and have successful careers, and keep beautiful homes (even if that means throwing money at THAT problem). This is our way. Not our mothers' ways.

I tell the myself this - and I'd like the world to tell me, too.  Am I the only one?