Has anyone ever told you that things happen in threes? Maybe it’s just how Momma raised me, but usually if something went wrong, we’d be on the lookout for two more things to finish the sequence.
Well, Thursday was my day of threes. First, Brian and I were both in a huff towards one another. (You know, one of those alarm-didn’t-go-off-whose-fault-is-it? morning dramas.) Then I had a retail experience that made me suspect that I was being taken for a ride. (Don’t care to elaborate on that one.) Naturally, I called Momma to inform her of my suspicions. But before I could say a peep, I heard something roughly to this effect:
(Btw, X = cabinet/desk/dresser/furniture stuff)
“You know, I was just getting ready to call you! I bought [x] for Olivia’s room and [x] for Donovan’s room and I wanted to give them a lecture when they got home about how, now that they have these things, they need to keep their stuff picked up better. Because it’s disrespectful to me if they leave their stuff laying around on the floor because I got them those things. And then I was thinking… they’re going to be spending the weekend with you and, well, honestly, your bedroom is three times worse than theirs. And I just don’t know what to tell them now.”
Ahhhhh… So this must be what it feels like to be kicked in the balls.
Now, I’m not vilifying Momma here. It’s not that I wish she didn’t say it; it’s just that I wish it wasn’t true. To be fair, Momma and I talked later and she certainly didn’t mean to hurt my feelings. She understands that I have a job and a baby and that Brian’s working two jobs, so it’s harder to stay on top of the whole house.
That said, the bedroom being messy is just a reflection of that fact that I’m definitely inclined to put myself last. Would having a bedroom that feels like a sanctuary be wonderful? Heck, yeah. But guests don’t dine in my bedroom and Bennett doesn’t sleep in my bedroom. Being as it usually remains cloaked behind a closed door, my bedroom is on the bottom of my house-cleaning priority list. But I’ve heard time and time again that moms need to take time for themselves and be good to themselves, etc. Apparently not living like you’re the caboose at the end of the “important train” is a smart move.
And I don’t want to model sloppiness to Bennett, but I have a hard time knowing how to juggle and multitask. He’s only going to be a baby once, so I value the chances that I can soak up these fleeting moments. Does that mean that I’m investing less time in putting things away? Yes.
Do any of you older and/or wiser readers out there have any good advice on “cleaning as you go” or keeping up after yourself and/or your family a little better? I’m so full of excuses, but there’s got to be a way!