Tuesday, February 28, 2012

The State of My Space

He forgot to take out the trash again.  I'm no better. This morning's dishes slump in the sink, next to the laundry basket of mismatched socks I had worked on last night.  Blocks are still scattered on the floor and it appears someone abandoned half a bagel on the coffee table.  We come clambering in from the co op, arms full of art projects and assignments and I shrug out of my jacket and take the baby up to my (unmade) bed for a nap.  I pause only a moment to pat his round tummy before turning to face it all down.

Its been said that cleaning with young children in the house is like shoveling in the snowstorm. I try to remember that when juice splatters the floor I just mopped, or when a painting project gets way out of hand.  I try to remember that all of that goes double for a family where the children are home all day long.  A home with over double the national average of people is going to have an insane laundry pile.  I try to remember.

I know deep down that seeking solace in crisp cleanliness is an empty pursuit.  It may give comfort for a bit but it will never give that deep abiding peace that I keep looking for.  The moment a sippy cup capsizes, its gone, replaced with discontentment, disappointment, dissatisfaction.  There is rest and peace for my soul, but I won't find it no matter how many bags of donations I set on the front porch, or how determinedly I scrub the bathroom sink.

 I surround myself with people who "get" it.  I tell myself that none of it matters and that, if someone judges me by the clutter beneath my couch, perhaps that's not my problem.  I try not to let it all bug me and put on a brave face when I show the handyman my basement in all its cob-webby, disorganized glory.

Sometimes, I succeed.  I know who I am, I know my vocation and I know it gets ugly here sometimes.  And sometimes there's a bit of beauty in the ugly, that ugly/beautiful.  The collection of matchbox cars, wooden blocks and action figures I trip over on the stairs.  The sink full of mason jars.  The pile of shoes at the back door.

Sometimes, I fail.  I storm about and shout orders and demand order at any cost.  But even if it is accomplished, its empty.  A home void of life is an empty, joyless place.  Like a forest teaming with life, there is an order to the mayhem, a pattern, a purpose.  Who can improve on the perfection of of paint dripping from the elbow of a most intent miniature artist?  Now's not the time to demand perfection.  Now's the time to encourage creativity and curiosity and yes discipline but all wrapped up in grace and understanding.  All these crumbs are worth it, or so I tell myself.

So it goes.  I fire up and talk myself down.  I vacillate between iron clad requirements and relaxed expectations.  I flip and I flop and I try to get it all right - to not mind when its all undone a moment after I do it.

The state of my space?  Unspectacular.

This is the life.  This is how it goes. This is why there is photo editing.



14 comments:

  1. Love this! And the "That's why there is photo editing" *grins* I hear you, I am in the same boat too!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I just screamed at my child over reorganizing toys...we cleaned them all up and while I was putting some away in the other room they took all them out while I put some away in the next room over. I SO NEEDED this today. THANK YOU! You are not alone in this struggle!

    ReplyDelete
  3. This hit home soooo much! I always love reading your blog and soooo often relate but today was like you spoke words from my mouth and heart.
    Thank you for the reminder that I am not in this alone.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Oh no, you are not alone! Its so hard. I feel so scattered and unable to truly accomplish anything. But in the midst of all this mess, something IS being accomplished: real life. Relationships. Important things that are not derailed simply because no one has any clean socks today.

    Thank you for connecting with me today!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Amen, sister. I am constantly surrendering to a place of acceptance and contentment in the midst of keeping the house "safe". I die daily as well. Sometimes with a breathless ease...sometimes in frustration. Dying to self, dying to expectations...constantly learning and relearning how to do it. God is so good to us to remind us of what is truly important and simply being thankful for it all, helps.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Thank you Lydia. Today has been sucktastic.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Thank you Lydia. Today has been sucktastic.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Very REAL thoughts and emotions.
    Be grateful... your house will be quiet before you know it. Enjoy the little's while you have them.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Yes - all of it!! I can totally relate!

    Know you are not alone! Thanks for writing out your honesty here for us to read! :)

    ReplyDelete
  10. When I am feeling like you are today, I always remember that my little man won't remember a messy house, dishes in the sink, laundry not done, but he will remember time with me, quality time together doing the things we love.

    Your house is your home, it should looked lived in and loved. Sounds to me like everything is just as it should be :)

    ReplyDelete
  11. I am so glad you write about real life. You don't paint things in a light that makes the rest of us feel like failures. I cannot tell you how refreshing that is! Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Rebecca - You're welcome! I must say, even if I tried to, so many of my "real life" friends would set you all straight! They've seen the mess first hand! :-)

    ReplyDelete
  13. You excel far more than you know, Lydia! Thank you for your real and honest posts - they help to give perspective and enouragement! I loved your comment about "discipline wrapped up in grace and understanding" - I needed to hear that today. ♥

    ReplyDelete
  14. Sounds just like my house and my struggle with wanting a clean house.

    ReplyDelete

Thank you so much for stopping by! I love hearing from you! While you're here, don't forget to click "subscribe"!