Year of the House Cleaner

The other day, while driving the kids to school, I noticed something odd. I was, for lack of a better word, “happy.” This probably sounds terrible to people who either 1) walk around believing they’re happy when they’re probably just content, or 2) believe you should be happy all or most of the time and if you aren’t something is terribly wrong. For me, happiness is like that short period of time when you pop in a piece of gum and it tastes like candy. Whereas “contentment” is the rest of time you’re chewing it and it’s fulfilling its job of being chewy and somewhat flavorful. Which I frankly think is fine. Like I tell the kids, if it were Christmas every day, then Christmas wouldn’t be a very big deal and certainly no fun at all. Which is why I also could never get on board with the whole idea of an afterlife of eternal happiness. If every day is sunny, then eventually you take the sunny days for granted. The only way to up the ante is to make the place sunnier or to have a little rain thrown in once in a while (incidentally, don’t write in about how you like rainy or snowy days and how they make you feel happy. It’s a frickin’ metaphor).

But back to my happy driving day. We’re going to school, and suddenly it dawns on me that the kids are being funny, not annoying. And one of my favorite, sappy, uplifting songs is playing on the radio (“World” by Five for Fighting). And the mountains look absolutely gorgeous against the bluest, clearest sky we’ve had in days. So why, after days of general grumpiness, am I suddenly feeling cheerier?

Here’s one theory: hormones. That’s an easy way out. But not terribly creative. Although probably accurate. Here’s another: seasonal affective disorder. It’s been so gray here that I feel like I’ve moved to Portland. But here’s what I really think it is: Chinese New Year. We’d been getting ready for our annual Chinese New Year party (which is one of those fun but stressful things because we want to invite everyone we know, and then we end up having to make cuts that one or more family member resents because we don’t own an 11,000-square-foot home). My German/English husband is more Chinese than I am (I’m technically half by ethnicity — he’s full by previous life), and we actually go through the ritual of cleaning up the house and chucking stuff out. And we all know how much I love chucking stuff out. Result: Mama is happy.

So we’re getting the place ready, and Tenzin suggests that we have the carpets cleaned. My first thought is, “Why? So our friends and their kids can trash them again?” My second is, “Stop being such an asshole and get the carpets cleaned for your friends!” So we did. We got everything cleaned. And it ended up costing a somewhat large amount of money in the grand scheme of cleaning. But then this odd thing happened. On the same day, we got a random check for almost the exact same amount as the cleaning bill.

I love it when the universe appears to respond in a fair way (I say “appears” because I’m not convinced that there’s any rhyme, reason, or planning involved in any of the experience we’re all having on this big blue marble, and who exactly is to say what is and isn’t fair?). Because believe it or not, our Chinese New Year party is one of those things that we do, well, with a pure heart. We’re not trying to impress anyone or get anything back. We just want our kids to have fun and our friends to come over and have a great time. So that may be why I was getting a little bit of the happy back. At least that’s what I like to think.

Of course, today I have a cold, we’re getting snowed in, and the kids are driving me nuts. So I guess that karma thing can only get you so far. Sometimes it takes a little hot tea, some Airborne, and a husband who takes the kids outside in the snow to keep the world in its proper balance.