“I don’t know how you manage on your own,” is a statement I often hear from married friends. Even with a helpful husband around raising kids and taking care of a home is hard work.
So how do I get it all done?
The answer is: I don’t. I really don’t get it all done. My house is an array of half completed projects. The stairwell still needs to be painted. I have new sinks to install in both bathrooms and then I’ll tackle the new floors that are needed. The basement has become a makeshift baby store as I pile up the items being given to me in case I get a baby. (Even if I do, I’m planning to ship a bunch of stuff to my sister – who is expecting – as soon as she and her husband find a new house.) There is clean laundry abounding around the bedrooms. Most days I can manage to get it down to the basement, washed,and brought back up. By that point it’s bedtime and I leave if for another day which comes around eventually.
One of the highlights of my recent childfree trip to California was staying in a tidy, uncluttered apartment. It did me good to remember one day the mess will be over. My kids will grow up. Toys won’t always litter the hallways. Dirty socks won’t appear in the most unlikely places forever. This is just a season I’m in.
Sometimes it’s hard to appreciate the season. Despite the state of my house, I do have standards and expectations that I find myself continually falling short of. I’m not a perfectionist but enjoy a sense of decorum and order. Since I started homeschooling that has become impossible. The only time I don’t have a child or children underfoot is when they’re in bed. By that time I’m so depleted I do fun things like blogging or watching British crime dramas.
Most days I feel like I don’t get much of anything done at all. I mange to put three meals of some nutritional value on the table each day. I keep the kids relatively clean – though that’s becoming more difficult with the onset of good weather. My children are drawn to dirt and mud like a magnet. On short notice I can throw together a decent family dinner when my siblings come by to visit. But don’t check the top of the china cabinet. Apparently, it hasn’t been dusted in quite some time.
This week, aside from completing my first official catering job, my greatest accomplishment was mowing the grass. My pictures don’t do it justice. The place was turning into a jungle. Now when I look out my back patio door, there’s a sense of accomplishment. It’s small, but I’ll take it.