Today was perfect.
Other's may define it differently,
* I did get puked on. I did snuggle on the couch for two hours in the middle of the night with a little one battling a fever. I have not showered. And I only crossed one thing off the never ending to do list.*
but I am sticking with perfection.
I piddled today. Is piddled a real word? Of that I am not so sure, but either way that is what I did. After a long, exhausting, two sets of jammies for both of us, grueling night, we awoke to the comforting sound of rain.
I love a soft rain. The love the rhythmic tapping on the window as you wake up to the dreary sun. It was a perfect way to greet the day this morning. The soft tapping of the rain on the window set a nice quiet tone to the morning. Everyone trickling into one bed, not quite ready to throw their feet on the floor and take off running yet (myself very much included).
I washed a lot of laundry(This was not the only night that involved puking.) I laid it in nice piles. *I did not put it away.
I swept the floor. *I did not mop it.
I wiped the counter down. *I didn't completely disseminate the pile of papers that linger there.
I downloaded all the video footage from the video camera for 2009. *I didn't burn it to a DVD.
I took all the outgrown, comfy winter things from kadence's closet. *I didn't get them in a tote.
I made some Brownies. We ate some. *I haven't found a lid to put on the pan.
Yes Perfect really.
As I caught myself apologizing for the piled laundry on the back of the couch....and for the blocks that were dispersed as far as the eye could see......and for the crumbs of brownies that lingered on the table....I just wanted to stop and scream.
Why do I apologize? This is who we are. This is LIFE. This is us. Our family. LIVING.
When I talk to my friends who have children I would say that 9 times out of 10 they will say, "man my house is trashed" and in all reality it probably is.
Who cares? It should be. If all our houses look "trashed" then lets redefine the standard. Let's make it okay to have kids and have a house that looks like kids live there.
Why do we hold ourselves to this unobtainable standard of perfection? Why is it that we feel the need to "pretend" that our houses don't "usually" look like this; WHEN THEY DO! If all of us moms unite and scream "nonsense" we could kick a chunk of that "mom guilt" right out the window!
If I could wish upon a star......I would wish for a day when I did what I could and if there were clothes on the couch, toys from one end of the house to the other, crumbs on the floor, but my kids were loved~played with~treasured, then it was a good day. AND if a friend would stop over, there would be no compelling need to "apologize" for living. They would settle themselves in among the chaos and it would feel ........Perfect.
Just like home.
*Yes this pictures is from the "past" but it warms my heart and soul.
"Congratulations! You're not perfect! It's ridiculous to want to be perfect anyway. But then, everyone's ridiculous sometimes, except perfect people....You can drink pickle juice and imitate gorillas and do silly dances and sing stupid songs and wear funny hats and be as imperfect as you please and still be a good person. Good people are hard to find nowadays. And they're a lot more fun than perfect people any day of the week." ~Stephen Manes Be a perfect person in just three days