June 3, 2011 by Marj Hatzell
You know what’s annoying? When you are trying to goof off and real life gets in the way of stuff. Things like kids getting sick and mommies getting sick and appointments that have to be…um…attended. And house to clean and food to prepare. I mean, c’mon! These kids can’t fend for themselves? I’m supposed to COOK FOR THEM, TOO?
And that, my friends, is why I joke about being the Domestic Goddess. For some reason, I can never pull it all together. I was great at keeping up with laundry this week. I’m down to a few throw rugs and am washing the blankets we use to cuddle on the couch! My kids’ drawers barely close (which reminds me, I think they have too many clothes. Well, until I get backed up on the laundry again)!
But things I didn’t do well? Remember to fill out paperwork. Call the doctor for me. Clean the house better. Cook decent food (all quicky stuff).
I have to be realistic. Bugaboo was home for four days straight. A two-day weekend takes me three to four days to recover from around here. Four days straight? I am going to be cleaning for a month. And then he’ll have off for a week. Which will take more than a month to recover from. In which time he’ll have another week off…
See where this is going? I realized something this week. My house isn’t a museum. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Like my Nana said (and I’ve said here before): My house is clean enough to be healthy but dirty enough to be happy. The kids’ playroom? A mess, but Bugaboo prefers it that way, I tells ya. Why else would be dump everything on the floor the second I clean it up. Bugaboo’s room? Slightly untidy. Bug Boy’s room? You don’t wanna know. But I can see the floor today so that’s good, right?
My point? We live here. The house looks like we live here. There are handprints on walls and windows. Dog nose prints on the front door. Stains on the carpet. Sticky spots on the kitchen floor. Dust on the mantle and tv. And I get it all done (eventually). And when people stop by to visit they aren’t totally skeeved. I mean, it’s good enough. So it’s good enough for me and I’m not going to stress over it anymore.
I have just a teensy bit of stress as it is. I KNOW, RIGHT! I should quit my b*tching and STFU and suck it up and stuff. WHAT. EVS. But the stress. Oy. The housework can wait. My kids are only young for a short time. I’m going to enjoy the time I spend with them, take care of them the best way I know how and not stress over a dusty dining room table (which we don’t use anyway) or a slimy hand print on the light switch cover.
And if it bothers you? Don’t come over. So there.
But if you do come over? I’ll be a good hostess, there will be a cool glass of iced tea in a clean glass and a place to sit while we have a warm and friendly conversation. Just don’t touch any doorknobs or light switches, mmkay?