I have to admit, I cheat. Every other week, I have someone come into my house and do the heavy cleaning….the hard mopping, changing all the sheets on all the beds, cleaning the blinds, getting to the bathrooms, etc. Everytime the house gets cleaned, I am in heaven, but only for as long as it takes for it to become a disaster again. With three children aged 5 and under, this usually isn’t very long. Last Wednesday was cleaning day. I wake up on those Wednesdays excited. Just knowing that soon, the kitchen floor will not be sticky, the fridge will be cleaned out, and the boys’ bathroom will be semi-usuable puts me in a happy mood. When it’s done, and the house is still quiet (because Ryley and Grace are still at school and Ethan is keeping himself occupied), I sit in my favorite chair and just enjoy it for a few minutes. And then I go pick my kidlets up from preschool. Forty-seven minutes later, my house once again looks like a freight train has blown through it……school projects and mail litter the countertop along with the remains of lunch for three children. Shoes lay on the floor with the toys that have already made their way out of the bins in the playroom. Footprints (the dog’s and the kids’) reach from the patio door to the stairs. How does this happen so quickly?
I am not a perfect mom in any sense of the word. I yell more than I’d like. I spend more time picking up, cooking, cleaning and taking care of household stuff than I wish I did. I spend less time on the floor playing or at the table doing “projects” with my precious three. My older two often go to school in clothes that don’t match (an argument I vowed to myself I would not get into with my kids…..if they decide to wear orange and blue shorts with a red shirt and yellow flip-flops, more power to them. Then when they ask fifteen years from now as they see themselves in their school pictures how I could have let them go out like that, I’ll honestly be able to tell them that they decided to dress that way!). My backyard is littered with toys and parts of toys that have seen better days. I still do not have baseboards downstairs or window coverings (besides ready-shades) in my bedroom. I am a frustrated neat-freak who does not have the energy to keep up with three kids, a non-neat-freak hubby, two dogs and two cats.
Do I wish I were better at all of this? YES!!!!!!!!!!! I berate myself on a daily basis for not being “better”. But you know what? NO ONE is perfect. Boy, what a boring place this would be if we all were. So I just go on each day, trying to do better at being a mom, trying to do better at being a good wife, trying to do better at being a good homekeeper. And I live for those 47 minutes every other week.