I had an epiphany the other day. Let me catch you up on a few things, first.
Things have been crazy here. Sometimes good crazy, sometimes bad crazy. I feel like I’m always writing that on here – my life is crazy. Well, it is.
And I have been struggling a lot with feeling like I am doing a much as possible in the day. Most days I get to bedtime and I wonder where on earth the day went, and how on earth I didn’t get the laundry done, the dishes washed, and the bathrooms spotless. Because I stay home all day, and don’t have any obligations outside of my family, I feel like I should be able to be super mom at home – super spotless house, great meals cooked, clean laundry folded and put away, not to mention spending hours playing with my children, reading to them, and going places with them.
Well, here was my epiphany. There are not that many hours in a day, and when most of them are punctuated by unexpected messes, potty accidents, and children fighting, they seem to get used up a lot faster.
I have always tried not to have too high of expectations for a clean house and home cooked meals because two small, very high energy children (if you know my kids, you know what I mean – touch touch touch touch, fight fight fight, talk talk talk talk talk, sound effects sound effects sound effects… it never ends. Seriously) make doing all that very hard, and I don’t want to spend my children’s entire childhood cleaning the house. I’d rather play with them, and the other stuff can wait. Sure I can teach them to clean with me – but honestly, that doesn’t really get stuff any cleaner because they make a bigger mess than they fix. But like I said, I’d rather do things with them and have a little bit dirty house because “babies don’t keep.”
Back to my epiphany (that was only part of it) – I went though in my head what my day looks like. I wake up around 5:30 or 6 (on good mornings – i.e., when Russ hasn’t kept me up all night watching TV shows or movies or talking), so that I
can have a few hours (usually only one) to myself to prepare for the day – I usually spend this time reading the scriptures and writing on my scripture blog. Then the kids wake up and I feed them breakfast around 7:30 or 8. By 9am I have cleaned up breakfast, and have the kids dressed and ready for the day. Then around noon, we eat lunch, then we read together and I put the kids down for naps around 2pm. By the time Joseline wakes up (and Vincente, if he even napped) we eat dinner, and then it’s time for bed. So, If you look at things this way, the only time I have to do much of anything is in the morning, for about 3 hours. Sure I have nap time, and I do a few things, but I don’t really like to spend my kids’ down time doing things I could do when they are awake, like cleaning. I prefer to do things I can’t do when they are awake – like reading a good book, writing, or taking a quick nap, myself.
Sure, things will change as my children (and our family) grow, but right now this is how it is, and I think that if I can keep realistic expectations – that is, be okay with only having essentially 3 hours in the day to get things done, then I should be fine. In fact, the reason I’ve been doing so much better the past several days is because I have been okay with it, and I’ve been planning my days better to take advantage of those few hours. And I’m much happier.
When I am feeling down for not keeping the house spotless, my dad reminds me of this poem:
Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.
(“Song for a Fifth Child” by Ruth Hulbert Hamilton, Ladies’ Home Journal October 1985)