So today's post about cleaning has really gotten me thinking. It is so interesting how different everyone's take on my plight is. From empathetic allegiance to... I'm sure... frustrated "how many times does she have to go through this!?!" disbelief. But here is the thing. I'll go through it 100 more times, 1000, one freaking million. Because... because.... I don't want to change. Not because our chaotic house doesn't stress me at times. Believe me it does. But because something has got to give. Having a clean house isn't more important than the choices I make inside this house on a daily basis. My mess, Kid's mess, Mr F's mess, and even little Baby's mess signifies how important our other choices are to us. Sometimes I lose sight of this.
But today, right now, I see it clearly and I am SO proud of us, of our strengths, and our convictions, and by God our cluttered shit hole of a living room. Because that pile of books and Kleenexes that are falling of the side table are from the HOURS that Kid sits in that chair and reads to herself and is read to. And the dirty dishes and pans covering our counters and table by the end of the day are because I cook thoughtful healthy meals three times a day... EVERY day. The toys all over the playroom and dragged throughout the house are because the kids were having FUN and entertaining themselves so I could blog about it. The laundry sits clean it it's basket because I only have one hour to myself and I choose to exercise and that means I can clean it but I don't have time to put it away. The bathrooms and kitchen and good God the basement hardly see a bottle of cleaner because on the weekends we are a FAMILY and we choose to spend time together eating Mr F's favorite apple pancakes, and making an even bigger mess, and dancing to inappropriate music.
So those of you who don't understand why we don't just pick up after ourselves... it is because we choose not to. And honestly we will always choose not to. Because one crazy stressful day is a small price to pay for what we get on all those other days filled with meaningful choices. I choose not to let my kids watch TV (for real), and to exercise, and to pay our bills in full on time (not easy), and plan healthy meals and prepare them, and to laugh, and to share it with you. And something has to give. I cannot do all that and be a neat tidy organized person. And if I was.... I wouldn't be me. And Mr F wouldn't be Mr F. And Kid wouldn't be Kid. And even that little crazy baby wouldn't be Baby. But that's not gonna stop me from complaining about it!