Some day we will have a clean house, nice things, a date night out without worrying about crying babies or early am wake up calls. Some day, there won't be crumbs in the floor, toys under the couch, stockpiles of school papers and baby wipes littering our kitchen counters. There will come a time when we buy new furniture without asking ourselves "how long will it take the kids to destroy this one?" We will have fewer clothes to fold and less socks to mysteriously lose in the wash.
Some day there won't be sleepless nights with a screaming baby, diapers to change hour after hour, and no more pacifiers to keep up with. People will be able to come visit us without having to wade through a sea of Legos and books in the floor; we will have more drink options besides milk or apple juice. Some day our grocery list won't mainly consist of kid cereal and baby snacks. We will only have adult medicine in our cabinet: there will no longer be a dozen different varieties of children's grape, cherry, or bubblegum flavored liquid medicines.
Some day I won't feel guilty that I chose sleep over cleaning the house, that I neglected folding the laundry because I'd rather have ten minutes of "me" time alone.
These days are fleeting, lived on a euphoric high "survival mode" style.
And I know there are some people out there who can do it all. They raise their kids, keep their house, entertain guests, work, play -- they find a way to do it all, all the time. That's just not my style.
But I -we- are doing the best we can. We're not perfect, so far from it really. But this is what we do, how we do it. We have a messy house and wild kids and neglected chores. We have bags under our eyes and supper still on the stove from last night. We play with our kids and play with each other. We fight and we brew and we are still trying to find our way.
Some day our kids will be grown, some day we might figure this out. But if we never do?
Fine by me. And if the kids want to be little forever? I'll take that over a clean house any day of the damn week.
