I'm a mess.
I want to be together and with it. I want to have a tidy life, and I just really, really don't. Sometimes I feel like I'm just barely clinging to a distant notion of being acceptable. It feels like, each day, I wake up in the middle of a flurry of things to do, messes to wade around in, schedules that I'm constantly failing to adhere to.
As my babies get older will I be able to get it under control? Or am I doomed to unwashed hair, digging for pants in the laundry, stepping over unfolded clothing, chugging a smoothie for breakfast. Is this just how I am, as an adult? Hurried and overwhelmed and struggling to keep up with reality. Or is this just the life of a woman with an 11 month old baby and a 4 year old child?
Please, those of you who have kids who are older, tell me it gets better. Actually, tell me that you remember feeling this way, like every day was a race to juggle a bunch of tasks that can never actually be completed, and that it gets better.
We're making laundry just as fast as I can clean it.
We're eating up the food as quickly as I can cook it.
And, mostly, this isn't my life. I refuse to make this the meat of my existence, but it's hard not to have diapers on your mind when the pail is full.
Do you know what I mean?
I am not a person who cares about keeping a super clean house. I only care about it being clean enough that we can have friends over for lunch without having to invite them to sit on a pile of unwashed towels and eat out of a big leaf from the tree in the back yard because all of the bowls are dirty. Here. Here's a stick you can kind of poke your food with and get it into your mouth. Sorry, I didn't have time to wash forks.
Sometimes I feel like I spend all of my waking time running after tasks that i have no interest in, cleaning and shopping and cooking and cleaning and being on time, and let's not even get started about things I actually do have an interest in, like not smelling and not having a house that smells like diapers and garbage.
I'm finding it really hard to keep up. I need advice. Do I throw/give away everything and live minimally, so that our house isn't a toppling pile of possessions that's threatening to smother me? Is it not the fault of the number of possessions, but just how I have everything organized?
Do I need to start waking up early to fit a work out in, so that I'm not scrambling to get to the gym after supper? What about the fact that I'm an anxiety ridden mess if I don't get enough sleep?
What tricks and rules do you use to keep yourself and your family running smoothly? How do you keep up with your children and the messes, responsibilities and activities they come along with? Are you really out there in your kitchen somewhere right now, wearing your one year old child in a sling while you wash dishes and pack lunches for tomorrow? Then how come mine just screams and dives for the knife drawer every time I pick up a dish?
When you out there, when you take pictures of your heels and red lipstick and talk about how you're a rockstar at housework, are you just messing with my head? Have you really had on a cute pale yellow dress all afternoon and your children didn't totally destroy it? Are you really wearing make up to play in the back yard? How is this possible?
Maybe this is what we're all talking about. Maybe this is the mommy thing, the thing we used to be afraid to admit, but now we're talking about. Maybe this is just how it is, how we all laugh and nod our heads when somebody talks about scrubbing poop out of the bathtub or peeing her pants in the grocery store during a really big sneeze. Is this just how we all feel, and the point is to enjoy our beautiful children in spite of all the exhaustion, because someday they'll be grown and they won't be making diapers to wash and we'll wish for a moment of this pandemonium back? We'll wish for one of these ungodly early mornings, being roused by a perfect little voice saying, "Daddy said to tell you Cheesy took off her diaper in her crib and everything smells like pee."
Is that all it is? Do I just need to let it all go, and do my best to keep up, but mostly I just shouldn't worry because it will get better?
Because I do understand that my babies are only babies for such a short time. I do squeeze them and flip them upside down and kiss their fat little chins because it makes them giggle. I do crawl onto their bedroom floor at night, just to stare at their tiny little chests rising and falling. I do love them like the sun's gone out, I do.
I just can't keep up with them.