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Messy House, Happy Kids

My husband and I have often talked about being careful about how much we work. While I take the effort to be sure I have lots of time with our kids, I don't take the time to be sure I have enough to time to clean the house. Or, let me put it this way, I make time to cook, for us to eat together, for the kitchen to be cleaned, for the kids to get wrestled with, read to, chased and tickled.

I make time for singing. We make time for parks and family trips.

We have the money for books, trips to the museum, and sometimes snacks.

We DON'T however spend time or money on cleaning our house. My deep down feeling about this is that I do wish it bothered me enough to do something about it. However, at the end of the day, I want to play the kids, talk to my husband, throw the ball for the dog, read a book, crochet a scarf, chat with friends, and have quiet time.

I do not want to fold laundry, mop, scrub the tub, deep clean the refrigerator, or organize the pantry.

I truly admire people who do all of the above.

My husband often reminds me how much his dad worked when he (husband) was a young boy. Often 7 days a week, both at a regular job and then odd jobs to make ends meet. Husband's thoughts on this are that he now realizes how much work that was, but at the time it was just normal.

If my kids grow up thinking wrestling, reading, singing, eating together, laughing, and time with loving parents is normal, even with a messy house, I can learn to be okay with that.

This makes an argument for regular prayers, devotions, church attendance, pondering about God, and statements of faith as well. If you are steeped in it, the language of faith, the stories of the Bible, and testimonies of trust and hope become part of your normal. Those memories last long past clean floors.

Maybe I need to sing songs of faith and mop at the same time, but, first... TICKLE FIGHT!

Comments

Teri said…
this is part of what makes us good BE roommates...a tolerance for a bit of mess in favor of having fun rather than tidying up. :-) I'd much rather remember chatting, and giggling over martinis, and whatever other random things we might come up with, than organizing our closet/bathroom/counter...

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