I grew up in an exceptionally clean and tidy home- sterile as a doctor's surgery- with a germaphobic mother who always insisted it was a mess and she needed more time to clean. I am messy af. As others have said about growing up in a messy house, when you grow up in a very clean house, your compass for what counts as normal is off, and my Mum refused to provide any sensible guidance.
My brother and I did nothing at home, as whenever we did do something it was wrong and she would redo it whilst berating us for getting it wrong (not that she ever showed us how).
When I went to Uni I had an en-suite room and I asked some questions about what I should be doing.
"How often should I clean the bathroom?"
"Every day."
"OK...well how often do I actually NEED to clean it?"
"Every day."
"But even you don't clean all the bathrooms every day!"
"I know, it's very embarrassing, I do as much as I can but you and your brother don't help and your Dad is always working, so I can't get round to them all every day (continues in this vein for some time)
"Right...well what about the bedsheets?"
"Every other day."
🙄
I ended up changing the bedsheets about twice a term and cleaning the bathroom even less often. 😂
I have improved but it's never instagram tidy. My Mum's house is still pristine and she still completely martyrs herself to the cause, for example I came round with food and to help her out after surgery and she was stood on the kitchen island cleaning the chandelier one crystal at a time with glass cleaner, as she does every week. Then complained that it had been 3 days since she scrubbed the skirting boards because she couldn't bend that low.
She refers to our house as a filthy squat. 😂