Cleanliness is next to godliness
- Not in the Bible. Anywhere.
I swear I will clean this house if it's the last thing I do.
But, in all honesty, it's probably the last thing I'll do.
This is a picture of my living room. Right now.
Let me explain:
We live on the edge of the Great American Southwest. It's really beautiful here. Mostly desert, but still lovingly placed in the swath across the Midwest known as Tornado Alley. Meaning, we get the beautiful non-humidity, but we still get crazy, tornado-driven, hail-infused, lightning-crazed, thunder-riddled, rainstorms that, honestly, are wonderful sights to behold.
Unless, you're a 100lb Golden Retriever with an attachment disorder.
Or a toddler who will wake up if the dog is upset.
Or a husband who can normally sleep through anything but the dog freaking out.
Or a mommy who can't fall asleep ever because she's growing another human, and said human keeps kicking her and doing strange things to her spine, causing her legs to twitch with violent jerking motions.
Other than that, though... we're pretty golden. Especially since last night, it wasn't even raining. But never mind that...
I also had the sniffles. Something my husband cannot stand. So, I regaled to the sofa last night in a feeble attempt to calm everyone around me. The dog could sleep right by me; the baby monitor ensured that I could keep an eye on Jminator (who woke up every hour for unknown reasons) and let the Hubster rest as well.
No. Just... no.
I did my best to stuff diapers this morning; J strew them across the soggy-floored living room. I made a quick breakfast, and now everything is covered in peanut butter. The chairs are everywhere thanks to little peanuty hands that wanted to help.
But at least the dog is sleeping. Jerk.
In all honesty... It really doesn't bother me as much as it should. I need to vacuum. I need to pick up the chaos. I NEED to do dishes, and do some laundry for J. But honestly, I'm grateful. Grateful to have days where nothing is perfect. When everything is perfect, save one or two things, it's easy to focus on what's hard or wrong instead. But when everything is a sticky, chaotic mess, somehow it's comforting. It's messy because we live here. I have a healthy toddler who loves me and wants to help. It's not his fault that his idea of helping usually ends in havoc on my nerves.
Today is going to be awesome. It may not fall into what I think should happen. In fact, already plans have changed, and I'm off to solve the world's problems... But today is what is given me. And I'm already excited. Probably too much coffee.