He looks so old in this picture...
What a crazy day!? Not physically, but emotionally. Not anything in particular, just a range of thoughts and ideas that have been running around in my head all day... and all last night. It started with me dreaming of everything I did that was unkind or naughty to my mother. In very vivid detail. I was not an awful kid, but there were many things I would change if I could. I think everyone would. It was horrific to remember everything and the guilt was overwhelming. I cried in the shower.
I love my life which includes tender moments with my son. I made pancakes with my son and enjoyed them... with extra syrup. It was amazingly funny to experience this with my son. I know that sugary syrup is not healthy for my son, but it was worth every unhealthy gram of sucrose to see the sticky joy.
And as I was getting ready for church, I brought out a tub of lotion to moisturize my legs. I put my hand in the goo, then rubbed it in my leg. Before I knew it, I felt a tiny little hand on my leg rubbing just like Mommy. But that was not enough. He had to dip his hand in the goo and put it on my leg. Monkey see Monkey do. I have realized how much he is watching me. It is terrifying.
As the day wore on, I looked around my little new place and realized that, with every meal and toy, my home was getting messier and messier. World, you must know that I have a sister. She is the oldest of all of us and is an amazing woman. And her home - ah, her home - is always clean. Not just the clean that is the opposite of cluttery. If you were to enter her home at any time, just drop by, her ceiling fans are dust-free, her baseboards have not a speck of dirt. When you wash your hands in her sink, there is no toothpaste spit drops, no soap ring at the drain. EVER. Every drawer, every closet is clean and organized.
And I looked around my new place and it is not this way. Not even close. I really love a clean home. I love the feeling when the floors are mopped, the windows washed, and the smell of Windex permeates every thing. I know that I have not been in my place for very long - my pictures are not even hung - but I have never been the ultra-clean and it really got to me tonight. So, I took on the project that was my kitchen sink and started with one spoon at a time. I scrubbed bottles, the crockpot, and every other pot and/or pan. I swept the floor, mopped with the cheating Swiffer, cleaned Aiden's bathtub. But when I ran out of Lysol wipes, I literally sat on the kitchen floor and cried.
I understand I am tired. I am worn out emotionally, but I want this so badly. But I also realized tonight that I am not the kind of person that can be quick or organized when I clean. And I really want to spend Aiden's waking hours playing and singing and reading and dancing. So, I will get done what I can in the hours of the evening and it will have to be what it will be. So tonight, at least, my home is clean... at the least the parts that company can see... my dishes are done and my house smells clean. The washing machine and the dishwasher are both running.
And, World, I do get my sheets changed at least once a week. That has to count for something.
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