The lyrics of Dr. Demento's "They're coming to take me away" have been running through my head today.
My house isn't just messy at this point. It's catastrophic. I'm talking WW4-style destruction.
Don't mistake me. I clean. Not in that spotless, "I'm keeping my house camera-ready at all times just in case Better Homes and Gardens wants to snap a few quick pics at a moment's notice" kind of way. I clean in that, "organized clutter" kind of way. Where if you give me a 30 minute heads up before you "pop" over, I can sweep the crumbs under the couch and give the bathrooms a cursory scrub.
Yesterday I decided to be ambitious. I decided that I would give the floors the thorough scrubbing they need. The kind where you move the furniture and unhome the dust bunnies, where you get down on your hands and knees and not only scrub the floors, but the baseboards and maybe work your way up the walls too. After all, what's the point of having floors so shiny, they reflect filthy walls? (We put Monkey in Mother's Day Out twice a week, so I knew in theory this was a possibility.)
Why, oh why, did I wake up feeling so ambitious??
The second we got him home in the afternoon, he did what he does. He opened his bag of gold fish crackers and dumped them all over the floor. Then he crunched them under his shoe before I could get to him. I died a little inside. I didn't want to, I understand he's just doing what babies do at his age. But I did. I died. Just a little.
And it's not just that. It's that no matter what, my family makes messes. Messes that they don't even see. Messes that drive me absolutely bat-crap crazy in that "white padded walls" way. Food particles all over the floor, popcorn kernel pieces ground in-between the sofa cushions, toothpaste spittle on the mirror, dried muck in the bottom of the sink. They see none of this.
I'm doing my best to train them to be better. To do better. To see the filth. I feel like as a mom, it's my job to prepare my kids for life after me. When they graduate high school and go out into the world to find their own way, my boys need to be able to do their own laundry, feed themselves, get from point A to point B, and keep a clean living space. It drives me nuts to see the newest generations absolutely dependent on other people to live their lives. I don't know if it's a shift in priorities, that they just don't care, or if their parents waited on them hand and foot rendering them completely useless to society. My kids won't be like that.
So for today, I'll let the mess stand. I'll make Monkey pick up his toys when he gets up from his nap. I'll make Chunk clean his bathroom when he gets home from school (he's 12, it's good for him). Maybe one day they'll do it all on their own. That's the day I hope for in the future.
