True story.
After most of the kids were in bed, and the oldest son was washing dishes, I finally got around to cleaning the bathrooms. The bathroom I was working in is right off the kitchen so the oldest and I were having a conversation while we worked. The mirrors were clean, the sink was clean, the counter was wiped off (it’s stark white and HUGE, so it’s kind of a big deal), and I was cleaning the toilet.
Oldest child finished up the dishes and came into the bathroom to finish the conversation before heading to bed. Did he stand on the floor and talk to me like a normal person? No, he did not. Because that is not who he is.
He instantly jumped up on the huge, stark white counter and continued talking while dancing and watching himself in the mirror. I didn’t think anything of it (this seemed pretty normal for him) until I was leaving the bathroom thinking I was done.
Nope. As I turned off the light, guess what I saw.
Black footprints all up and down that huge stark white counter. That I just got clean 3 minutes ago.
This is why I have no motivation to clean anything! Ever.
Don’t get me wrong. I clean. But it never stays done for more than a few minutes.
Everything I do gets undone almost instantly. And not usually by me.
I find myself looking around thinking, “You know, I could tidy up real quick. But why bother? The kids will be home soon and it will look even worse than this, and I’ll just have to do it again. Or make them do it, which is 5 times harder than just doing it myself.”
My grandma has a cute little decoration in her house that I used to think was funny. It says, “Cleaning house while kids are still growing is like shoveling snow while it’s still snowing.”
I used to chuckle at it, “Haha. That’s so cute!”
Now I just want to yell at every poor soul who happens to be passing by, “IT’S TRUE!!! IT’S SO TRUE! Have you seen this? Do you get it? ‘Cause I don’t think you do!”
You know who does get it, though? My mom.
She raised me in her house.
I used to be that kid. The one who followed along behind mom, completely oblivious to the extra chores I was creating, undoing all of her hard work trying to keep our home clean.
But I don’t remember it that way.
I remember my bedroom was a disaster most of the time. (She even has video.) That was my responsibility.
But the rest of the house looks pretty clean in my childhood memories.
I have no idea what my kids’ memories of our house will look like. They probably won’t ever think about it.
But I will. And the struggle is real.
So, here’s to you, Mom! It probably didn’t feel like it, but I think our home was pretty clean while I was growing up.
And here’s to hoping my kids will have the same memories.
Or that someday, I just won’t care anymore.
I love how you wrote of your conversation with your oldest…that he happily danced on the counter while talking to you. And you love him for who he is… so you continued this conversation without thinking about “more messes”. He will remember how happy he was while talking to his mom… which is far more lasting. Kudos, Marie -I think you’re a great mom!
When the youngest 3 of our 10 children were still at home they would come in from school and drop everything on the floor in the family room. No mater haw many times or ways I reminded them to pick up and put away their things nothing worked, SO I came up with a plan that I could live with and could have the house mostly tidy. I assigned Dan the end of the couch near the fireplace to drop his things. I assigned the end of the other couch, near the kitchen for Spencer to drop his things. Sharla’s things were set behind the recliner – at the top of the stairs. Sharla always took her things downstairs when she would go there. The result of this plan was that company or I could walk into the family room and all looked tidy.!