My morning began at 5AM when my husband’s alarm clock went off. I kissed him goodbye as he hurried out the door for an early morning appointment, hushing my anxious dogs and rolling over to go back to sleep. I awoke again at 6:45 when my messy-haired tot appeared at my bedside with her newest-favorite book and the pink elephant blanket I found at a consignment store earlier this week. She had somehow managed to procure a wee bit of caffeine the day before and because of that, had me up multiple times during the night to “talk.”
Side note: never, ever, ever share iced tea with a three-year-old.
Somehow I coerced Reagan back to her bedroom to read books to herself while Mommy slept for a few minutes more. After dozing for another half-hour, I awoke to the sudden, heinous smell of dog poo in my bedroom.
Side note: never, ever, ever ignore an anxious, pacing dog in your bedroom.
Up like a flash and holding back dry heaves, I cleaned the mess and saturated the cream-colored rug in carpet cleaner. Guess I’m up now. Taking my troublesome tribe downstairs, I let the dogs outside and started a load of stinky laundry.
With boxes still strewn about from our recent move and toys scattered here and there, every room needed straightening. But with rumbly tummies urging us on, I started unloading the dishwasher while heating up the skillet to make a pancake for my girl. Noticing the stack of mail on the table and mantle, I mentally began tracking down the basket I’d found Reagan with outside last week. It’s the perfect size for organizing the messy papers.
Side note: never, ever, ever stop one project – especially one that involves a hot skillet – to go on a wild-goose hunt of another project.
I still haven’t found that basket. And thus my day continued.
I worked my way from one half-finished project to the next: starting laundry but getting distracted by the stuffed animals all over the living room floor, putting away animals until I notice that the carpet was in dire need of cleaning, and so on. By the time my husband walked back in the door this evening, the kitchen was mostly cleaned up, the toys I had managed to fully put away have been, in part, brought back out to be played with, and now I have multiple laundry baskets full of clean clothes waiting to be folded and put away (quite possibly the nemesis of my being!). And he finds one frustrated and exhausted wife.
When I went to bed last night, I planned to get up and make breakfast, clean the kitchen and take Reagan to the community pool. Instead I spent the morning in chaos while she watched cartoons, played with her aforementioned toys and painted with water. We did stop a couple times to read but otherwise my focus was on the house.
Now, let me be clear, my home needs cleaning. But I didn’t leave the full-time work force to clean the never-ending mess that is my house. I’m staying home to be with my daughter.
“Maybe it’s time to let go of the perfect-house expectations you’ve created for yourself,” my wise husband encourages. Yes, I said it: he’s wise. But let’s just keep that between you and me right now.Sometimes you have to let go of your own expectations to live fully in the now.Click To Tweet
And while I’m not sure if I can fully let go of my expectations, I’m trying something new. I’m making a (short) list of things I want to do every day like make my bed, clean the kitchen and pick up toys, and a (short) list of other household chores I will do weekly/monthly like vacuum the whole house, clean bathrooms, dust, etc. Instead of trying to do everything all the time (and failing miserably) I’ll work on the few chores that mean the most to me, and learn to live thrive in the midst of a little chaos.
Now if I could just find someone to come do my laundry.
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