I am an organizer.
Now let's pause a moment, tsgs, until the raucous laughter dies down.
If you could see the state of my living room right now you would
join in the laughter and then say,"You've got to be kidding me."
3 times in the last week people have dropped by and found my family,
knee deep in popcorn kernels and board books and we had to literally,
clear a path so they could enter the house.
I have died a 100 tiny prideful deaths over the state of my home.
The floor is littered with videos, diabolically small lego pieces and
random pieces of cutlery. Woven in between the toys,
I see trails of graham cracker pieces and
some unidentifiable liquid is pooling on the coffee table.
Apple juice? Yesterday's cup of tea? It is anyone's guess.
Tax stuff litters the kitchen table,
along with voting guides, un-filed bills, and 3 thank you cards
that need to be sent that I don't have addresses for.
4 loads of laundry sit on my bed
and 3 more are over flowing the hampers.
I feel scattered and a bit sad that I have yet to figure out a system
to manage my own household chaos and also,
that I don't have any chocolate to comfort myself with at the moment.
But the thing is, organizing other people and their homes,
is a job...a project...a task with a beginning and an end.
But this house, this space filled with toys and odd scraps of paper,
with cracker crumbs, dirty clothes and even dirtier dishes,
this is my life. And I am in the midst of living it.
We are mucking it out...making snacks, wiping noses, budgeting,
kissing foreheads, changing light bulbs
and racing to the car on rainy mornings so we are not late to school.
And it is messy, this life, oh my goodness, it is messy.
This unkempt house with its closets
stuffed with light bulbs, items to be returned to target,
and bags full of clothes for Goodwill,
the bathtub with its chips in the enamel,
and the half finished cup of coffee sitting on the counter
are a testament to the life I am living.
This busy, crazy, rich, filled-to-the-brim-with-little-boys life.
And while I long for a big clean space, I really do,
because it truly feeds my soul
(and also nurtures my anal retentive tendecies
that I learned about in my college psych class),
I am trying to take a deep breath
and just enjoy the messy living part, too.
Because, God knows, tsgs, it may be a good 15 years
before my living room is really clean
and if I can't let go of some of these
control issues I will CLEARLY lose my mind.
So all of that said, with the kids' rooms in disarray
and the recycling waiting to be taken out,
I am going to make myself a cup of tea,
and drink a toast to me and my messy-full-of-life house.
Anyone care to join me?