The problem is, three children plus a very pregnant OCD mama is not the best combination for a peaceful home. I spend my days chasing after them with a broom in one hand and a toy box in the other. Heaven forbid my home should actually look like children live in it. I swore I would never be one of "those moms" whose homes show the wear and tear of child's play. I wanted the Pinterest house. We all know what I mean, too: the house with perfectly-organized toys in cute fabric bins, a bright playroom that encourages creativity but magically stays organized, a living room adorned with home-made decorations, and a kitchen that produces delicious meals yet remains unsoiled from the production of said meals.
I hate to admit it, but my home had become an idol in my life. Trying to maintain order and perfection was stealing the joy of my motherhood. I couldn't enjoy playing with my children because the thought of making a mess gave me an anxiety attack. I was more content to let them watch their favorite show on TV than to engage them in creative, messy play because I knew it would mean less work for me. Even worse, my anxiety about messes was rubbing off on my kids. They had become afraid to play because they didn't want to face the wrath of an overwhelmed mama.
I reached a breaking point a few weeks ago. Uncomfortably pregnant and totally exhausted, I was attempting to push through it to work on one of my "perfect home" projects: baking with my Amish friendship bread starter. But, I had these three little ones at my feet who wanted attention (imagine that!). I remember seeing a post in my MOPS group about making home-made play foam. Witch a deep, calming breath to prepare myself for the impending messy doom, I whipped up the foam, put it in tubs in the kitchen, and let the kids go to town while I finished baking.
Guess what? My house did not disintegrate beneath my feet from the foam that inevitably ended up all over the kitchen floor. The world did not come to a screeching halt because the Sterk home was *gasp* dirty. In fact, it was anything but dirty because the kids used the foam (made of dawn and food coloring) to clean the kitchen floor! They were more than happy to scrub tile and follow it up with a dip in the bathtub to wash off their multicolored skin. Everything that needed to get done got done--and then some.
That day, God challenged me to lower my expectations and to bash the idol of the perfect home. I am so glad I listened to Him, too, because doing so has made an unimaginable difference in my home. I am calmer, my kiddos are happier, and the whole atmosphere of our home has improved. Stress no longer reigns; it has been dethroned by fun, relaxation, and joy. Sure, I may have play-doh ground into my area rug, but I would rather have that than bored children who feel like a nuisance rather than a blessing.
Don't get me wrong. I think a relatively organized home is still important. Shoes and coats go in a bin by the door so we can find them as we herd our turtles out the door. Toys go back in designated bins at the end of the day so we don't misplace pieces (or step on them in the middle of the night!). Dishes get done, but sometimes a pile appears in the sink. Laundry--well, okay, laundry doesn't get done. I hate laundry and hide it in my bedroom. However, the cleaning is not a constant, all-day battle that ends with an exhausted mommy collapsing on the couch. We do enough to keep our sanity (read: to keep Mommy's sanity), and spend the rest of our time enjoying our family.
Not every day is perfect. Sometimes, I panic at the sight of a messy play room or a living room covered in snacktime crumbs. What can I say? I'm a work in progress. I'm actually writing this after a marathon cleaning session of the play room, but I'm chalking that craziness up to nesting. If you are sitting amidst a pile of laundry and toys after a day of play, fun, and the laughter of children, give yourself some grace, sweet mama. Let your children be children, and let your house be a home.
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| Playing with foam. |
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| Let's get messy! |
