A fellow military spouse shared an article on her Facebook page today written by a mother who confessed that she just couldn't be a certain type of mom, even though she wished she could be. And that type of mom, one that at times I wish I could also be more like, is the kind of mom who doesn't mind that her house is constantly a mess because, hello, multiple children live here. The "bless this mess" mom. The "don't mind the mess, my children are making memories" mom.
I. Just. Can't.
When I look around my house, and I see things ev-ry-where...it makes me twitch. Literally...I feel like I want to jump out of my skin, twitch. And anxious. Oh the anxiety that comes from stuff just, just, being there.
I also feel defeated because I will have spent all day cleaning, I'll go to the bus stop to pick up my kids, they'll ride their scooters back to the house, and by the time I get back walking the baby in her stroller, I walk in, and it's like a time warp to that morning where the house looks like it did before my hours of hard work. How does that happen? I was 30 seconds behind them!
And yes, I am so thankful to have children to make a mess in my home. And YES, I do know that some day I will miss this. But today is not that day.
I remember my mom came out to visit us for Thanksgiving last year while my husband was deployed. I was picking up and organizing, again, and she looked at me and said, "Your kids are living and playing here, it's okay if your house isn't perfect." And I realized that's how it must look. That I want my house to be the picture of perfection at all times, and for some, that may be the case.
But for me, it was about control. And not in the way you might think. When my husband deployed, my youngest was only 7 months old. She has special needs, and at that time a feeding tube, that allowed us to have a nurse come to our home to help with her care. (I thank God every day for the time we had the nurse because she saved my sanity, and I mean that literally. I don't know how I would have done it without her).
I had an 8th grader who was only going to school two days a week and doing virtual learning the other three. I had a first grader who was going to school four days a week, virtual on Friday, and a pre-schooler who was going to school the same four days a week as her brother, but at completely different schedules. I was in and out of the house four times a day just for pick up and drop off for my two middle children.
Then there was my youngest. She has OT on Monday, PT on Friday, she was seeing ENT, GI, Neurology, Feeding Specialists, Nutritionists, and having any type of study done to make sure there wasn't something physiologically preventing her from eating that could be done at that time. I had at least 2, sometimes 3 appointments each week for her, with some of them being an hour away at the children's hospital in San Diego.
I managed one ER visit per month while my husband was deployed (the first one being the day after he left), my kids were whiny, acting out because daddy left, my oldest was acting out because daddy left and because he's going through puberty (that's a fun time, let me tell ya) and I was going through all of this as a geographically single parent.
Not to mention, 9 days prior to my husband deploying, he lost his father. Thankfully, we were all able to fly out and be with him when it happened, but I also had the emotional upheaval of not even being able to comfort my husband who was now across the world dealing with the sudden loss of his father, or my mother-in-law and sister-in-law who were across the country dealing with the loss.
I felt like I had zero control over my life. None. Zilch. I felt powerless. Until I started taking control of my surroundings, aka my house. Having a place for everything, and everything in its place, made me feel much more calm throughout the day. I'm not saying I put things away as my kids played with them, but I regularly picked up and put away as things were done being played with.
I also have them join in, because it's also my job to teach them to clean up after themselves. During the week, they have so much structure during the school day that when they are home, I want them to be able to play with friends and just be kids, so I do the majority of the picking up M-F. But, I bring out the "I'm not the maid" and "The maid quit" comments for the weekend.
So, during the week, I am picking up, putting away, wiping down, straightening up, folding, making beds, chasing dust (one day a week), throwing out (if my daughter only knew how many of her beloved coloring pages have seen the inside of our trash can, there would be hell to pay)...and so on, until I can look around my house and feel...calm.
My house is my island in the storm. NO! That's the wrong term because that immediately makes me think of sand, and sand being ev-ry-where...and now I'm twitchy again. Not my island.
No...my house is my sanctuary. I want to feel safe when the world, and all of its uncertainty, makes me want to scream (and oh how often that is). I want my children to feel safe. Yes, I know one day I will miss having a play room that gets destroyed several times a day. Yes, I will long for the days when I would step on legos (said no parent ever) but you get my drift. I know I will miss the mess I clean up consistently throughout the day. But...one thing I won't miss, is feeling anxious and irritable and just plain BAD because I feel powerless and out of control. I won't miss feeling that way because I. AM IN. CONTROL. As much as I can be.
Just out of curiosity, I timed myself today when I started planning out this blog, just to see how long I actually spent cleaning my house. First up, picking up the playroom that Ry went around in her walker adding floor decorations to. Three and a half minutes!
Next up...folding two loads of laundry (only one load is pictured below on the left, I grabbed the second load from the dryer). Thirty two minutes (I didn't reset the time from the playroom, just hit the start button again).
Laundry for a family of 5 (my teenager is in charge of his own laundry) was folded and put away. While I put laundry away in each of the bedrooms, I made beds and straightened up the bedrooms. They weren't terribly messy, but typical 5/7 year old clutter. Twenty-five minutes.
When all was said and done...I had the playroom picked up, all the clean laundry folded and put away, random stuff left around put up, beds made, bedrooms picked up, and myself feeling pretty dang good in one (ONE) hour. Control doesn't need to take all day. You can take control one hour at a time.
The best part? Ry was down for her nap by the time I was done, so I was able to get my morning workout in alone! I felt good...then I felt better...and I was one happy (and relaxed) mama!
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