BUCKING THE SYSTEM: HUSBAND CONCEDES, ENDING FOUR-YEAR STRAIGHTEN-CLEAN WAR

My husband began this year with a single goal: To keep our house clean. It's amazing how well WE are keeping HIS New Year's resolution so far.

Not that I'm complaining. If you haven't noticed, I always give him plenty of exposure when he's doing right in hopes that he'll redouble his efforts. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

This time, however, we've kept the house completely neat and clean for an entire week, definitely a record for the Bucks.

Don't get me wrong, we're not living like trolls or anything. At least, not anymore.

I must admit, over the years our household has been through some trying times throughout our four-year Straighten-Clean War.

What's that, you say? Well, the Straighten-Clean War was a group of intermittent battles sparked by my husband's lack of participation in household chores. We struggled to keep our house straightened that is, having the appearance of clean -- and to use appropriate supplies to actually clean our house at least once weekly.

Patrick wasn't really helpful in straightening or cleaning the house. Whenever he got really bad, I would resort to going on strike, washing individual plates and forks for my own use, cooking single-serving meals, and spending a lot of time at my parents' house. I wouldn't wash or hang up clothes or do anything that resembled organizing our home.

Patrick would take it for a while, but in the end I'd come home to find every window open, with the largest trash receptacle he could find inside the house to save on trash bags. The house would be clean, and we'd get along just fine.

That is, until the next battle started.

Our problems stemmed from Patrick's insistence that he worked long hours without consistent breaks and was tired when he came home. That argument fell on deaf ears because I, too, work long hours and am tired when I come home. In addition, my workday isn't over when I come home. Kids are high maintenance and have to be fed, supervised, read stories, played with, have booboos kissed and other types of interaction during their waking hours.

Those are 24-hour jobs, any way you slice it.

Somewhere along the way, I think Patrick started to realize the effort I put into keeping our household going. Or maybe he tripped on a stray sock or truck just once too often. The result was his concession of defeat and a new willingness to share housework.

As part of the spoils of war, I looked on in amazement as Patrick cleaned most rooms of our house during the first two weeks of the year. I got in on the action then, and we have since taught the kids to put their coats and shoes up as soon as they come off (their dad still needs work in that department.)

Dirty clothes immediately go in the hamper now, and clean clothes immediately go on a hanger and into the closet. And clothes that have been taken out of the dryer are put away rather than being allowed to stay in the basket so long you forget that the clothes are clean.

Even better, we've seen some other positive developments from our new-found neatness. For example, I've taken a second look at those low-fat and 20-minute meal cookbooks I've collected, and my pots and pans have gotten a regular workout. And after dinner, like clockwork, Patrick gets up and starts washing the dishes.

It's like the Cleavers moved in and took over our bodies.

I'm not sure how long this cease-fire in the Straighten-Clean War is going to last; after all, most New Year's resolutions are made to be broken. But one thing I do know: It looks like we're finally getting the men of this house trained, and I will not willingly go back to the war-torn days of old.