I've been posting some of my favorite memories in celebration of our upcoming first anniversary of new home ownership. Today I thought I'd share one of the hardest lessons I've had to learn.
I am the daughter of an extremely clean mother. At any given time you could visit my mom's house and find her refrigerator sparkling and her floor gleaming. There are no cobwebs in any of her closets and no dust bunnies under the bed.
I was taught to make my bed every morning and to wash out the sink after doing the dishes and when I rented my first apartment I took great pride in my detailed cleaning schedule. I've since moved from that apartment into other apartments and then ultimately an apartment with Clay where we shared household chores, a habit that proved very valuable when the babies started arriving.
So I've always had cleanliness under control. But now we're in a house, a big house with lots of rooms and space and things to clean. And our babies are toddlers now- one just out of the terrible twos and one teetering on the brink of them. Within a matter of minutes our house can go from clean to a disaster zone and this is very hard for me to accept.
A whole roll of toilet paper unraveled in thirty seconds.
There's nothing neat or tidy about the way these two play.
The normal state of Narls' bedroom.
Tiny cars and planes on the bathroom rug at 6am, laying in wait for an unsuspecting foot to step on them.
I could spend all day every day cleaning and at first I tried to. But then I started missing the funny things Em would say as she learns to talk. And I would miss the hilarious stories Narls invents as he plays in his room. And I would miss wonderful moments of cuddle time with my handsome fiancé on the couch. A house that is always clean isn't worth that price.
So I've learned to relax a bit. And I've gained so much.