I’m here to say, the struggle is real. My house is never clean. Would I love to have someone clean it, yes. Have I done that, yes. I just discovered that I was cleaning it before that person arrived because I was so ashamed of how dirty it was. Now just how ridiculous is that!?!?
I never knew how dirty a house could get until I had kids. Let me re-phrase that, until I had a houseful of kids. I used to think my house was a mess. I only wish it could look like that now. Back in the day, when it was just Johnny and I, newly married, getting used to “domestic” life of owning a house and having jobs, I used to spend every Saturday morning cleaning the house. I don’t mean just picking up, I mean top to bottom cleaning. I look back now and wonder what in the world I had to clean. Surely just the two of us didn’t make that much of a mess.
Several years later we had our first child. I look back now and laugh at some how crazy I was during those first couple of years of motherhood. I remember one day in particular. Johnny was working one Saturday and for some reason I had convinced myself that I needed to empty out, clean and reorganize all of my kitchen cabinets. However, I had a one year old running around. I thought to myself, how in the world am I going to get this done.? So, I called in reinforcements. My mom and dad came over and spent several hours playing with our son so that I could clean out my cabinets. I look back now and think of how silly that was. First, that I couldn’t do a chore and watch my child. Second, why in the world did I think I needed to reorganize my cabinets!?
Of course, with each child I learned to let certain things go. Each child brought a new dynamic to our home. My daughter would not leave my hip. I learned to cook and clean carrying her around everywhere. My youngest son was and still is a wrecking ball. He can destroy anything within just a few minutes of playing with it. I have been forced to adjust my demeanor to meet the demands placed in front of me. That means letting a few things go.
Today is Labor Day. We have spent the entire weekend at home, well mostly. I have been cleaning since I got home from work Friday night. The me of 10 years ago would have panicked at the crumbs under the table or dust on the television, or lets face it, the crusty peanut butter and jelly sandwich I stepped on today. What would that girl think of the woman I am today? How judgmental would I have been? At this moment I am sitting in the peacefulness of my back porch (well, almost peaceful, the kids are still yelling mom), and I am at ease knowing that the laundry is done, the kitchen is clean and the crumbs are off the floor. That dusty TV can wait, the Legos under the couch are not hurting anyone and that closet that needs to be cleaned out will be there next weekend, it’s ok. If I’m lucky I’ll manage to keep the laundry caught up this week and the dishes will get done each night. If not, oh well, I’ll catch it up next Saturday. In the end, I really don’t care what the girl I was 10 years ago would have thought.