My house when you come over. Where do I start? There are two vats of alcoholic beverages brewing on my kitchen counter courtesy of my husband. There is a pile of red peppers from my garden sitting next to the sink, which I intend to put into the chicken curry planned for tonight. It might happen tomorrow, though, depending on what happens when the kids come home and how much the Whoodle distracts me from my plan.
We are raising a Whoodle. She is three months old. Her toys are all over the floor. The pillow from my daughter’s room that the Whoodle adopted as her bed lies on the linoleum in the kitchen. The Whoodle leash and the headlamp I wear to take her out in the middle of the night are lying on the sofa, ready for action.
My daughter’s school books are probably on the dining room table. And the paper scraps left over from cutting out whatever artistic creation she had to make for school today. I still have to tell her to throw them away. She is 12.
My son enjoys making weapons out of painter’s tape, popsicle sticks, and rope. In the living room. He is 8.
I think you get the picture. My home is a work in progress, a place where half-finished projects live until whoever started them feels the urge to finish. The important things are clean. Toilets and sinks? Check. Sheets laundered weekly? Check. Rugs vacuumed? Usually. Clothing clean? Always.
But when you come over to my house I will apologize. I will sheepishly mention the clutter and make apologies for the vats of brew, the books on the table. I did not effectively teach my children to clean up their messes immediately. I did try, and sometimes they do! But sometimes they have to be reminded. Three times. Sorry!
Obviously if I were that sorry about how my house looks I would always keep it perfect. Sanitized for your protection like a hotel toilet. I do have varying success with housekeeping. Before we got the Whoodle I was on a roll. Things were looking great.
Then the Whoodle, and hubby got a bee in his bonnet about brewing. He does clean up after himself, by the way.
My home will never be picture perfect tidy. So it’s time to make peace with the fact that my house is more ‘lived in’ than ‘ready for guests’. As of now I refuse to look at any more Better Homes and Gardens magazines, wishing my home looked like that. In my household we are four healthy, thriving, active, energetic people (and a baby Whoodle). The Television is almost never on. We have rules about how much time the children can log on the computer. There isn’t much junk food in our cupboards. Hot, home-made meals get served nightly. Breakfast is nourishing and often served hot as well. We laugh a lot.
I love our life and our somewhat messy home. So next time you come over I will welcome you, ask you if you’d like a drink, and swallow my apologies.