Tuesday, December 17, 2013

If The Walls Of My House Could Talk.

I haven't slept through the night since June of 2012. That's approximately five hundred and sixty nights for anyone keeping track and I'm exhausted just thinking about it. 

I haven't been caught up on laundry since July of 2010. That's approximately 1,234 days of scrambling to find a pair of clean underwear and countless repeated spin cycles. In fact, if I'm being honest, there are at least two full hampers of partially folded clean clothes in our house on any given day at any given time. Most of the time those clothes never make it to their final drawer destination as they are picked through for what's needed until they're replaced with the dirty ones. 

There's a spot in my fridge, in one of those trays on the side door, that's been caked over with a fine layer of Stick for who knows how long. I like to pretend that one day I'll open up those doors and the Stick will have just vanished on its own.

My pantry is a veritable disaster, a graveyard of where canned goods go to die. Truly, it's almost hazardous to your health, as one must dodge various falling objects when opening the accordion door. Nothing like a can of Rotel to the big toe to wake you up on a Monday morning. 

Colonies of dust bunnies, lone toddler socks and renegade sippy cups can almost always be found underneath at least one of the couches in our house. Much like the fridge, I hope that one day this stuff will just disappear. 

On average I cook dinner three to four nights per week. The other nights it's a fend for yourself free-for-all which really means that the kids and I eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or Breakfast For Dinner while my husband is left to play Chopped with whatever he can find in the kitchen. Don't feel bad for him though, he's a pretty resourceful guy. 

The floor of my SUV is blanketed with a myriad of empty Starbucks bags, cake pop sticks, probable matches to the socks located underneath our couches, crunched up pretzel sticks and whatever else I tend to hand back to my youngest during one of his infamous "I'm Tired of Being In The Car" fits he pitches. I like to tell myself that all of this will come in handy one day should we find ourselves stranded and alone somewhere. Kind of like Survivor, Mom-mobile style.

I have a horrible habit of making piles of things. Ask my husband and he'll tell you it's probably one of my most frustrating and annoying qualities second to leaving tiny bits of food crusted to the sponge that sits in our kitchen sink. Piles of medical bills on kitchen counters, library books, coupon clippings and grocery store receipts. Piles of half-folded laundry, magazines and to-do lists clutter the dresser in our bedroom. Piles, piles, everywhere but I can tell you with my eyes closed just what's in every single one of those piles. So there. 

More often than not, the boys' playroom is left as-is and what I mean by this is that it looks as if we've been robbed by a fleet of toy-loving Oompa Loompas. I like to tell myself that it's only going to be destroyed the very next day so cleaning and organizing it is just a waste of whatever meager time to myself I manage to find at the end of the day. Who knows, maybe the mess is off-putting to any intruder who may be thinking of breaking and entering. 

For every fancy meal cooked, craft DIY'd and impeccable outfit planned, there's three meals that look like my toddler prepared them, two Pinterest craft fails and numerous days (and evenings) spent in black leggings and my husband's flannel shirts. 

I'm not Super Mom and I can't do it all no matter how hard I try. What's more is that I'm okay with that and proud of my sub-par Super Mom status. There isn't a day that goes by that we don't laugh, we don't play, we don't create and imagine in this house.  


If the wall of my house could talk, they would speak of 2pm dance parties, skyscrapers built from canned goods and shoe boxes, story time with a side of snuggles, food fights, tickle-fests and so much more. They'd tell tales of struggle, frustrations and flared tempers but more importantly, they would share the "I'm Sorry's" and limitless hugs and kisses that quickly follow. 

If the walls of my house could talk they would tell you that above all else, love abounds. And I'm more than okay with that. 

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20 comments :

  1. I LOVE this post. Someday {when I actually have 5 minutes to blog again!} I'm going to write one! :)

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  2. Enjoyed this AP!! I am a piler too lol

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  3. Sounds like the best kind of home!

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  4. I LOVED this post too! Almost brought me to tears. Of all the struggles, hard times, failed Pinterest projects, dirty laundry that will never be caught up, burnt meals, sleepless nights, etc etc...it's just a stage. In 10 years (heck, 5 years!) you'll look back and this will be one of those "remember when..." moments. But let's be honest, it will be kind of nice to feel like you're not just "surviving" all the time! :) Thanks for your honesty! I love this behind-the-scenes look into people's lives!

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  5. I'm SO with you on this. Especially the stick in the fridge and the dust bunnies - under everything. I'm only on child #1, and I am quickly learning that it really is impossible to do everything (and keep your sanity). So, I will let the dust bunnies lie, and leave the stick where it is, because the snuggles and kisses are WAY more important:) Thanks for sharing this today, AP. I needed to hear that I'm not the only one who isn't perfect!:)

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  6. LOVE this. I can relate so much. And you know what? I'd rather be in YOUR house than the "perfect" one, whatever that may mean.

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  7. So raw and so appreciated! Thank you for sharing a sliver of your world and helping me see what's really important.

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  8. Yay! I love it. What important things to remember especially this time of year. We are only human! I think you're amazing!

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  9. That's a house full of love - just how it should be! And I'm with you on the piles, at home and work. But I always know where everything is. I'm organized, but just not neat. Keep filling that house with laughter, love, and dance parties!! xoxo

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  10. Your house sounds like my house. I'm also a pile-er. Terrible picker-uper to. Let me deep clean any day, but picking up…no way. Terrible, terrible quality for a mother lol. Oh well. There is a lot of love and fun here as well and that's what matters. I let the kids make "creative" messes and I think it's just fine.

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  11. I could have written this word for word and don't touch my piles...

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  12. I like to think I can list "pile management" under job skills on an application one day, 'cuz I'm exactly like you, I know EXACTLY what is in each of my many, many piles. And I see no reason to pick up the 400 matchbox cars at the end of each day, for them to wake up and dump them out promptly at 7am the following morning. I think that's the exact definition of insanity!! :)

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  13. *standing ovation* Yes! Just, yes!!

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  14. hehe. The piles drive my husband crazy. However his socks ALL OVER THE HOUSE drive me crazy. Fair trade I think:) I agree dance parties and skyscrappers are way more important. Those are the qualities that make a super-mom not a perfectly clean house and quiet clean child. HANDS ON. Love this!

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  15. I am so glad to hear that I am not the only pile-er. My kitchen table is a mess right now! I think many of us are just like this, and I know I am proud of it! :)

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  16. Oh I love you. Exactly. For every LOOK WHAT I DID picture I post on IG, there is believe me, disaster lurking in the background in the form enough crumbs under the kitchen table to create a small beach scene and enough dust on the entryway table for James to draw people in. If anyone is doing it all, they have secret help ;) -gardenbaby

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  17. Oh I love you. Exactly. For every LOOK WHAT I DID picture I post on IG, there is believe me, disaster lurking in the background in the form enough crumbs under the kitchen table to create a small beach scene and enough dust on the entryway table for James to draw people in. If anyone is doing it all, they have secret help ;) -gardenbaby

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  18. Love this. And yes, even at my childless house, piles - and love - abound. :-) I'm with ya!

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  19. Love hearing you are just like the rest of us!

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