Sunday, 2 July 2006

I go through insane periods of just remaining blissfully unaware of the chaos that is my home. Normally it is after I have spent a good period of time getting the house at a respectable level, one where I would not be embarrassed if you were to unexpectably drop by and could show you through each room, if you were so inclined. And then there are days like today, where I would quickly usher you into the loungeroom telling you to excuse the mess and run off to close all the doors to the rest of the catastrophe that is my house. A short while ago a group of women on an online mothers group that I am a part of all posted pics of their homes. All sparkling, clean and not a thing to be seen (except for one who I could relate to immensely) out of place. I felt so inadequate. Then another posted a picture of what her loungeroom looks like messy. I was deflated even more. Her version of messy was my version of spotlessly clean! I look around me now and see newspapers, books, children's paintings and a fruit bowl full of hats. I look to my right and see my daughter's watching Finding Nemo. Shoes on the floor, numerous pairs in varying sizes, a few children's books, empty chip packets, coloured pencils a warm minky blanket and a baby wipe container. They're all in my field of vision. Luckily for me, and for you, I cannot see my kitchen. Needless to say it is filled with dishes that are days old and new shopping bags yet to be unpacked. I just feel lazy I guess. That's the plain simple truth of it all. Nothing more complex than that. We've been going for drives to look at houses for sale in places we dream about living in. We went out for dinner last night and this morning spent hours in bed, chatting and drinking coffee whilst Tara played around and with us. We have a new game. It's called "What do you want to talk about?" And we both lay there and try and come up with bizzare things to discuss. This morning she wanted to talk about curtains. Yesterday it was bellybuttons. I have plenty of time in the day to do both. Talk to my girls and my husband AND do the housework. Sometimes, I just choose not to.


Mart said...

I like a clean house ... but to be honest ... prefer it as it is at present. Blocks and train tracks all over the lounge room floor ... pencils and paper full of scribble on the coffee table, books all over the floor in front of the book shelf. A clinically clean house gives me the creeps. They're kind of like hotel rooms, all evidence of actual living scrubbed busily away.

traceyleigh said...

Yes very true. I have this dining table that is full of reminders of my children. Nail polish from Molly, paint from Tara and scratches from Alex. As much as I would love a new big table I love my old crappy one with my children marked into it.

Dusty Jo said...

Trace (I hope it's okay that I found you here) .. one of the reasons I left said place was that constant undercurrent of comparison/competition and all that veiled criticism (well, I felt a LOT of not well veiled criticism!).
Feeling free away from that and more comfortable in my skin and free to be *me*!!!

You do live in your house, and living the way you - and I - live, frees up time to play games in bed with our kids when others are up each morning at 6 mopping the kitchen floor.

XX Love ya