My house is a disaster. Granted, a couple hours this evening did help bring it back a little more under control, but overall, it’s still a mess. We’ve become way to habituated to tossing anything that belongs in the basement just to the bottom of the stairs. We’ve resigned ourselves to the fact that there are some toys just not worth putting away. And we’ve just become lazy when it comes to putting our clothes away at the end of the day.
It doesn’t help I get lost in the details when it comes time to clean. I love the look of things perfectly organized, and so I will often take the extra time required, when putting one thing away, to straight everything up around it. It’s a good habit to have when you are dealing with a small mess, but not very productive when you’re dealing with a disaster.
Tonight, my priority was to clean M’s room (done!), C’s room (done!) and the living room (…..kind of done?). Instead of ensuring all the messy build up was off the floors, I found myself re-organizing a bench just inside the door.
We’ve got a busy week ahead of us. We are out of the house for at least one activity every day that will likely disrupt naps, which will mean less cleaning time during the day. Plus, Scott and I each have one evening activity this week, which usually means the other can just write off being productive that evenings because the kids will be upset. And of course, next weekend we’re hosting a barbecue lunch at our house, so we may need it to be tidy.
And yet, instead of making sure that the shelves are tidy, the floor is clear and kitchen is clean, my brain prioritized re-folding meters of woven fabric that make up my baby carrier collection, folding the long trapezoids in half, and in half, and in half, and in half until they stacked nicely on top of each other inside the bench.
I could hear part of my brain saying: “what are you doing? Just dump it all in and shut the lid! Even if everything looks perfect today, you know you’ll be pulling carriers out of here all week any way!” and yet I just kept folding in half, and in half, and in half, and in half until they stacked nicely on top of each other.
Part of my brain knew this wasn’t a restful weekend. Friday evening was so long ago, I couldn’t remember anything about it. Saturday was spent tending the garden and preparing for an afternoon of laying sod. There was barely enough time to shower before going to a Father’s Day supper at my sister’s and then coming home late enough to ensure rough nights for both kids. Sure, we slept in on Sunday, but that meant hitting the ground running to get to church, make Scott a nice Father’s Day lunch, run off to get grocery shopping done before coming back to get both kids down for naps, make supper (burn supper), get one kid in the bath and the other to bed before trying to get the messy house under control. So folding the wraps in half, and in half, and in half, and in half until they stacked nicely on top of each other? That was the calmest part of my weekend.