What is it about a clean house that resets my trip odometer? Clean smelling wipes that singe nose hairs do wonders for my psyche. Vacuum tracks provide peace-of-mind. Slobbery toys in the box are liberating. It’s all on the surface, of course. The truth is under the toaster. The microwave shines outside, but the hot dog that exploded is still stuck to the inside. Elmo is on the shelf but his batteries are dead so he’s moaning. You need life insurance before opening the study closet.
I walk a delicate cleaning tightrope, finding the balance between keeping an orderly house for my kids and putting my kids first in order of priorities. Maybe the façade is all for me—I don’t mind using muscle to shove the linen closet door closed if it means one more loop around the train track with my boys. My laundry pile makes a great ladder for reaching Big Bird band-aids. If I use my entire forearm, I can sweep pretzel crumbs under Elmo placemats.
I arrived at this sweet place called “semi-clean” one day while scrap booking. Christian, age three, was playing with Legos and I calmly explained to him that I needed to run and do a bit of scrap booking. “Why?” he asked. “Because,” I stated, “if I don’t get your pictures into an album, I’ll forget these precious memories!”
Precious memories were happening behind me as I headed for the albums. I turned on my heels, sat down, and played Legos. It’s a daily struggle. Dishes are staring me in the face. Pink, Dr. Seuss-like foam circles the tubs. Hairballs blow by like tumbleweeds. But memories are bigger than messes. And that’s what matters most!
- Laura Speidel, author Mom2Mom – 7 Reasons to be Grateful You’re the Mom of a Newborn
