Car-pet Peeve

There was some hot, steamy action going on in my house over the weekend. In fact, it went on in almost every room of my house. Not just the bedroom, but the living room, the kids' room ... even the hallway. Oh, and the stairs. I'd been wanting it for a long time, and boy, did I get it good. I feel SO much better.

What? It was my Mother's Day present from Curtis. And frankly, I could celebrate every holiday that way. Awwwww yeaaaahhh.

Flip your "dirty-minded" switches to the off position, you pervs ... I'm talking about having my carpet cleaned. And no, "having my carpet cleaned" is not some euphemism for an X-rated activity (although I guess it could be. I mean if you can have your salad tossed ...). I'm not talking about carpet of the does the carpet match the drapes variety: I'm talking about my actual carpet. The dingy, stained, ripped-in-some-places-thanks-to-a-certain-destructive-dog carpet that stretches its dismal, discolored way across my floor.

Yeah, I'm not too happy with it. Can you tell?

It wasn't all that great when we moved in almost five years ago, but oh my Lord ... what three boys, two dogs, and three cats will do to floor coverings! Ugh! And what's worse, I swear it stains when you look at it wrong. You can literally spill a little bit of water and guess what? You've got a stain. From water. 

It was so embarrassing. I'm weird about people judging my house when they come in anyway (is that a cobweb in the corner?) and I always envisioned someone coming in and secretly being all, "Oh my goodness, this carpet is so gross I'm afraid to walk on it lest I contract some sort of exotic foot fungus from the random stains."

So when Curtis told me that for Mother's Day he was going to have the Stanley Steemer peeps come in and take care of the carpet, I was ecstatic. Ecstatic in the way that most women would be if they were presented with, say, some sort of sparkling diamond or a really expensive pair of shoes. Seriously, that man knows the way to my heart.

Anyway, they did a fantastic job. The carpet is much cleaner. (And no, this is not some sort of paid endorsement, although hey Stanley Steemer ... call me.) Not all the stains came up, but the overall grossness went away; I can look at it without shuddering now. And if somebody came over I wouldn't be embarrassed.*


*Unless they looked at my boys' bathroom because OMG. Gross.

But since they left? I've gone all carpet-commando on my poor family. I swear I spend a good portion of my day now yelping, "Get that off the carpet! No more eating or drinking in the living room! Get back into the kitchen with that!" Also, I'm doing something that I actually reeeeally dislike: making everyone take their shoes off at the door. Not houseguests, because I just think that's excessive and we don't really have guests all that often anyway, but my dirty-footed kids who track through mud and poop and who knows what else. I mean, they run around naked most of the time anyway, so it's not that much of a change. And my husband, who for the record does not run around naked, but who works in an industrial facility with dust and oil and crap all over its floor.

I just hope I can keep it looking decent for more than, like, a week. Anybody got any tips for me? Do any of y'all have as many issues keeping your carpet nice as I do?