The List
I would like to enter this post with one of Mozart's most harrowing themes. Imagine it, if you will.
I just wrote the longest cleaning list of my life, it was three pages long detailed according to room; of course I used bullets, no list is complete without them. Bullets on top of bullets. Bold print, large font, in order of importance.
Three. Pages. Long.
This is not even a list including fanciful projects that I plan on starting now that I'm a stay at home mom. Oh no, no, this is just your average everyday cleaning that has been backed up now for over three months; some of it longer than that, perhaps before Christmas 2013? I'm ashamed.
The things on this list simply didn't take priority when you're working full time, raising two kids who destroy things faster than you can make them right; seriously, I am not dramatizing in any way the pure talent my daughter has for destruction. Ten seconds flat. You turn your back and she has single-handedly dismantled the entire bookshelf and is sitting in a pile of books, the ridiculous thing is she will actually look through every single book one by one diligently. But who can be angry at their three year old for loving books so much she literally wants to be surrounded by them? Not me. I'll take the mess and rejoice that my daughter will be a book hoarder, like her mother.
These things are important. Cleaning toilets are important, but seriously, they just get dirty again...it's kind of as pointless as the making of the bed thing. I mean, they look great for about 2 seconds and then they get used and there goes that idea! I love clean toilets. I'm the only one in my household.
You know what I also love? I also love having all the laundry done. I literally just laughed in my head at this thought because it seems so much like a fairy tale, like I'm believing in magic. Maybe that's why I love Mary Poppins so much, the OCD in me wishes with every fiber of her being that I could snap my fingers and toys would walk into the toy box. LAUNDRY. I haven't had it done since before before Christmas.
{Long sigh.}
I'm a clean freak living in a piglets sty. It is my own version of hell to learn to relax and let the mess lay so I can sneak in a few cuddles before bed. This was my life before being a stay at home mom. We have limited moments to just cherish the warmth of a hug, a tight squeeze, the rhythm of a tiny heart beating close to my body. The only things that matter in life. I marvel at mother's who can do it all, work outside of the home full time and love and nurture their children while maintaining a clean organized world. I can't. Something always fell in the crack, sometimes it was my children because I was so tired and stressed out I had absolutely not a crumb of patience to remember how young they are, how innocent no matter if it was on purpose or not; sometimes it was my house, I let my house go in exchange.
So, I start my first full time day alone with kiddies {it hasn't really sunk in yet, ask me how I'm doing in a month} and I have delivered myself a complete house cleaning list that I need to accomplish. Maybe a few things a day? I printed the list and put it in a sleeve so I can take my dry erase marker and cross out the lines as they're completed, because we all know this is the most rewarding and enjoyable part of the process {also, teaching my children how to pick up after themselves, again.}
I'm scared. Somebody hold me.
I just wrote the longest cleaning list of my life, it was three pages long detailed according to room; of course I used bullets, no list is complete without them. Bullets on top of bullets. Bold print, large font, in order of importance.
Three. Pages. Long.
This is not even a list including fanciful projects that I plan on starting now that I'm a stay at home mom. Oh no, no, this is just your average everyday cleaning that has been backed up now for over three months; some of it longer than that, perhaps before Christmas 2013? I'm ashamed.
The things on this list simply didn't take priority when you're working full time, raising two kids who destroy things faster than you can make them right; seriously, I am not dramatizing in any way the pure talent my daughter has for destruction. Ten seconds flat. You turn your back and she has single-handedly dismantled the entire bookshelf and is sitting in a pile of books, the ridiculous thing is she will actually look through every single book one by one diligently. But who can be angry at their three year old for loving books so much she literally wants to be surrounded by them? Not me. I'll take the mess and rejoice that my daughter will be a book hoarder, like her mother.
{She hasn't completely dismantled this one, yet. Although give her time. She maintains that she is counting them}
These things are important. Cleaning toilets are important, but seriously, they just get dirty again...it's kind of as pointless as the making of the bed thing. I mean, they look great for about 2 seconds and then they get used and there goes that idea! I love clean toilets. I'm the only one in my household.
You know what I also love? I also love having all the laundry done. I literally just laughed in my head at this thought because it seems so much like a fairy tale, like I'm believing in magic. Maybe that's why I love Mary Poppins so much, the OCD in me wishes with every fiber of her being that I could snap my fingers and toys would walk into the toy box. LAUNDRY. I haven't had it done since before before Christmas.
{Long sigh.}
I'm a clean freak living in a piglets sty. It is my own version of hell to learn to relax and let the mess lay so I can sneak in a few cuddles before bed. This was my life before being a stay at home mom. We have limited moments to just cherish the warmth of a hug, a tight squeeze, the rhythm of a tiny heart beating close to my body. The only things that matter in life. I marvel at mother's who can do it all, work outside of the home full time and love and nurture their children while maintaining a clean organized world. I can't. Something always fell in the crack, sometimes it was my children because I was so tired and stressed out I had absolutely not a crumb of patience to remember how young they are, how innocent no matter if it was on purpose or not; sometimes it was my house, I let my house go in exchange.
So, I start my first full time day alone with kiddies {it hasn't really sunk in yet, ask me how I'm doing in a month} and I have delivered myself a complete house cleaning list that I need to accomplish. Maybe a few things a day? I printed the list and put it in a sleeve so I can take my dry erase marker and cross out the lines as they're completed, because we all know this is the most rewarding and enjoyable part of the process {also, teaching my children how to pick up after themselves, again.}
I'm scared. Somebody hold me.
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