Have you ever felt like your family was trying to tell you something? Tonight I walked into the bathroom to find my younger son peeing directly onto the back of the toilet before he corrected his aim downward. Thanks, Buddy. I know I needed to clean the toilet but I wasn’t planning to do it before storytime. Hooray for Clorox wipes (check out Shannon’s Ode to the Wet Wipe)!
I wouldn’t say I’m a slob but I am, in the oh-so-fitting words of Rick Warren, a frustrated perfectionist. It is a daily struggle to repress my feelings of C.H.A.O.S. also known as “Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome” (thank you, Fly Lady). My mom and I are cut from the same mold. We wait until we are having people over and then turn into the Tasmanian Devil trying to make our homes look like Martha Stewart has always lived here. At least, that’s what I used to do. I still like to have a relatively clean house, especially when friends come over, but sometimes it’s just not possible. Pop-ins happen and scheduled meetings are forgotten until the knock on the door. And when those friends walk in, sometimes there are floaters in the toilet and a pair of underwear under the couch or one sock, one marker and one flip-flop (why always just one?!) under the table hanging out with what could be another entire granola bar if you swept it into a pile and squished it all back together. You’ll want to keep your shoes on in my house. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
My point is this, if I wait for my house to be in perfect order before I have anyone over or before I give friends an open invitation to drop by unannounced, I am never going to have anyone come to my house. Who am I trying to impress? I have been realizing lately that, in a way, the disorganization of my home can be a strange comfort to people. One friend said, “You make me feel better about my house. Can I have my husband come over so he can see that we’re not the only ones who live like this?” And she was completely serious! All I could do was laugh and, in that honest moment, I decided that a little disorder could be an encouragement to others. I am no longer going to apologize for the state of my house. It is what it is…sometimes it’s clean and organized, but more often it’s not. Stop by for a cup of tea, leave your shoes on and, if you see that I haven’t had time to mop my floor and you still don’t mind letting your baby crawl around in my kitchen, it’s as good as a hug. It shows me that you love me just the way I am.
Kim is the wife of one rockin' Worship Pastor and full-time mom to four crazy and beautiful kids. Toss in a part-time job, housework, a blog, training for a foster care license and what passes for a social life these days and she’s still wondering how she fits 32 hours into a 24 hour day.
Pig Sty
My husband once said our house looks like a pig sty and I though...well, we do have 3 piglets living here. What do you expect?