And then I have a moment like I’ve been in for the past week
and I just want to ride this wave for as long as possible. I feel
strong and flexible. I
am accomplishing goals and having fun. But
I am smart enough to know I can’t take it ALL on. I make choices each day, and I cannot do
everything.
I am happily having a
moment where my domestic piles aren’t signs of failure, but just a task that I
will eventually get done. And they will eventually
build up again. These house chores are
like the tides. In and out. Up and down. Constant and always changing.
Here is our dining room table – overflowing with Easter
baskets, school work, hairspray and clothes.
And for some reason, it makes me giggle.
Maybe because it is so messy it is comical. Maybe because I am not taking the mess so
personally – like if I were a better housewife/mother/woman I wouldn’t keep my
home in such a state. Maybe because I
look at it and I know today I have ideas to write, acting class to teach,
dinner to make and an ice cream social to attend at school. And all of those things take precedence over
that table. It is sign of action in my
house.
I don’t view my mess with despair – it is showing that I am
making choices today. And cleaning is
not one of them.
It's interesting to me that you might think you're not a good enough mother because the table is a mess, when I think, "If my husband gave two shits he'd put his crap where it belongs." And so is born the Steve Drawer.
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