Engaging Each Day with Action Words

Mess. — But it’s mine. And I love it.

on March 29, 2013

Not too long ago, we were packing up for a trip and in the process, I discovered a huge mess in Y’s room. Not that this is a surprise to anyone, because I’ve mentioned before that the girl child would rather walk on hot coals than clean up anything. Unless there is money involved…she will work for money and Sweet Frogs frozen yogurt.

“Ugh! This house! It’s a pigsty!” That is my go to statement when I am reminded that I am not keeping up with household duties.

Fix it Felix took immediate offense to my exclamation saying that he doesn’t like it when I call our house names. And he is right. Again. Arrrgghh.

I don’t really mean it. I love my house. It is clean…. enough. We just have stuff everywhere. We don’t have a daily or even weekly cleaning schedule. We get to it when we get to it.   That is just how it is.

I wouldn’t be embarrassed to have any of you over. I might wipe down the bathrooms and pick up some toys and shoes before you arrived, but other than that, it would be presentable. I’d welcome you in and hope that you see our house as it reflects our lives and how we choose to live it.

Because we LIVE in our house. I mean, we really L.I.V.E. in it. And all that goes with that.  We work and play and cook and wrestle and wallow and sleep and dress and laugh. We come in and out of it and go up and down in it and run all around in it. We have stuff. The stuff of our lives. Toys. Socks. Shoes. Jackets. Backpacks. Folders. Books. Games. Puzzles. Dishes. The Dog.

So a few days later on this trip, we stayed with some friends who have a beautiful home. Nicely decorated. Nice furniture and rugs. Beautiful hardwood floors. Antique tables and lamps. Plants and flowers in delicate vases. Pictures and books on shelves. Crisp, made up beds and neatly folded towels in the linen closet. Spotless kitchen. Gorgeous table.

As many times as I have stayed there, I am rarely, really comfortable in their house.

During our visit, I got up early, before anyone else and wondered into the kitchen to help myself to some hot tea. As I drank it, I walked around the living room and suddenly realized just what it was.

There’s no mess here. Nothing to pick up off of the floor. Nothing to trip over. No dog to tell to get off of the couch so I can sit down. No crumbs on the counter or spots on the refrigerator door. No scratches on the hardwoods or nicks in the vases. There’s no kiddo artwork or schoolwork cluttering up the kitchen table. There are no dishes in the sink.

It is a lovely house. Don’t misunderstand this. I love these folks (and their generous hospitality) very much.

Their house just doesn’t feel like home to me.  I’m always a little nervous here, feeling like I don’t belong: That I might forget and put my feet up on the coffee table. That my kiddos will run too fast through the house and knock over a lamp. That I will drop a plate and ruin the Lennox collection. That we might track mud in after exploring the woods in the backyard. I’m always a little on edge, looking for potential disasters around every corner.

So for now, I think I will keep my mess. And I will try to keep up with it.

And  I will appreciate it for what it is.

A picture of our lives.

Right now.

And I won’t call it names anymore.

This little reflection is inspired by a recent post by Grandma Says   She was missing her mess. And in the process, helped me love mine a little more. Thanks Grandma Says! I needed that!  


4 responses to “Mess. — But it’s mine. And I love it.

  1. Great Job, Mommy! It’s nice to feel I inspired you! I really enjoyed this!

  2. Lead Our Lives says:

    Lovely post about what’s really important. I love my home and love when the children run or do whatever they do in it. It is one of the joys of being a grandparent…sharing the space with those precious souls who are open, free and filled with unbridled joy!

    • MommyVerbs says:

      What a wonderful perspective. Not everyone is like you. I know of some who cannot take that kind of open (loud) and unbridled joy (messy). I’ve always felt they are missing out.

  3. Amy says:

    So very true. Lovely post. Thank you for sharing it. It helps me put things into perspective a bit.

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