Because I'm anxious and struggling with feeling overwhelmed at allowing someone into my home for the express purpose of judging me, I have been doing crazy things like cleaning door frames, organising the tops of the wardrobes, and going under the kids' beds to see what they've stashed under there in the month or so since I last pulled everything out. Anxious cleaning is a near miraculous thing. I can't actually remember the last time I cleaned inside the air vents (I probably never have in ten years in this house).
Parents who do not lift their sofas to look underneath? I understand. Folk who don't ever buy products to whiten their tile grout? I'm on the same page. Adults who have roughly their own weight in laundry to get through? I feel your pain. I am not naturally neat, and neither are any of my children (so far). I love our warm colourful welcoming friendly home, but I have plenty of little piles of junk that I don't even see on a day to day basis - I'm really rather clutter-blind.
Anyhow, two days to go, and the house is under control. A tiny part of me says, "It's nice, let's keep it like this!" - A bigger part says, "Yeah RIGHT!" - And the biggest part still says, "We're happy, healthy, and busy living our lives and learning and DOING things, and it's nobody elses's business if there is a pile of dishes on the sideboard or clothes on the floor." No part of me is going to manage to say that during the inspection, though. I might be rather cross about the whole rigmarole, but the anxiety is still in charge as far as challenging policy goes.
(And if you think this means that I have Done All the Laundry, then you have never seen the size of my laundry pile...)
Oh look! A tour around my almost-but-not-quite-tidy house (yes, my carpet is always that colour... this is as good as it gets around here, friends! If piles of dirty dishes, and general clutter offend you, look away now!):