Like most mornings that I wake up before everyone else in the house, I have a few minutes to look around and think about what the house looks like. Honestly, I don’t spend too much time on it, but depending on who you ask, it certainly wouldn’t come close to a ”Better Homes and Gardens” or a “Martha Stewart Living” photo spread. There are toys scattered everywhere, little crumbs on the floor wherever my son has had food, and there seems to be never-ending piles of stuff in many places. And, to be realistic, the little messes my son makes are probably nothing compared to what he will come up with as a toddler. Yes, I look at this almost every day, but I don’t get frustrated, and honestly that amazes me sometimes. Why doesn’t this create some anxiety for me?
10 years ago my now daily scene would have bothered me – that was back when I lived on my own and could control everything – when and what I cleaned, plus I only had to clean up after myself. Enter a husband and a child and that changes everything. It’s not that I don’t completely care anymore, but there are things that are way more important to me now than keeping a spotless home. We take care of the basics – clothes and dishes are clean, the house does get cleaned and organized on a regular basis, and we keep things sanitary. You are just not going to see a lot of sparkle and shine at our place.
So what is more important to me? Simple. Living and being. Spending time with my husband and son. Being with them instead of obsessing over having a spotless, perfect home. Who can live in a perfect home anyway? When I look around our home in the morning, I either move on or smile, because it tells me that I live in a house with a lot of love and lot of laughter. Where life is lived and not just made to look good. It’s not a mess to me, but rather a beautiful testament to a family actually living and enjoying life.