Neurotic Dad confesses all

Last night Alicia and I were talking about our respective idiosyncrasies and one of mine that emerged, no surprise lately, is my obsession with cleaning. Cleaning the kitchen, in particular. I could easily wipe those counters 10 times a day. Why? I don't know, other than I am seeking some kind of sublime ultra-clean feeling that will never come.
This is a rather new obsession of mine, dated to when I knew we were going to have a baby. Suddenly I was overcome with the notion that I'd never have enough time and that things would never be the same again. And they haven't, of course, and nor do I ever "have enough time" But, as Alicia points out, who cares? Our time ought to be spent loving our daughter, not polishing the faucet.

I've lived with 3 single moms in my time, all as roommates. In all cases, I could never shake this nagging sense that they were mismanaging their time, which was why they seemed so tired and unproductive all the time. In short, I was judgmental. (I am exposing a huge weakness of mine, here, folks. Please be forgiving). Now I know, from the other side - the parent side - how uttering wrong and insensitive I was being.
In my initial post, I spoke to the wonderful feeling of having just an hour or two after Hadley goes to sleep, so that I can do whatever I like. Dadtime. Well, life in general is pretty much now divided between Hadley time and Dadtime. So when you're offered those few precious minutes or hours or whatever, the LAST thing you want to do is clean the damn kitchen, even if there is a week's worth of grime coating everything.

So I how do I balance my obsession with my need to relax? We have hired cleaners! And, as I did with my friend Dylan the other day, I beg people to come and clean the kitchen for me.