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To clean, or not to clean?

     I've never been the most organized person. "Organized chaos" is my typical explanation of my life. Until I had kids. Now it's just "chaos chaos". I clean something and I hear Rowan ripping something else out of its place. I can't ever successfully fold laundry and put it away because someone is constantly demanding my attention. The dishes...I usually have to let Rowan cling to my leg and let Lydia exercise her lungs because we have to have things to eat off of. I step on pointy hurtful toys countless times. I am constantly having to rescue Rowan from hanging himself on the string from the window blinds. Rowan was potty trained until I had Liddy. Then he reverted. So I'm consistently changing someone's diaper. There's always another mess, a mouth wanting food, someone getting hurt, "mama, mama, mama" all day long. Every DVD I own is scratched to hell, I find random half eaten apples under Furniture at least twice a week, somehow I have half the silverware i once had. Which leads me to believe someone has thrown them away when he dumps his cereal in the garbage. Somedays I'm so overwhelmed I want to ram my head into a brick wall. But I have to shake it off and just keep trying. Right now as I sit here and type this out I technically could be cleaning my living room floor. But since at this time Rowan is also adding more to the mess, I'm just gonna keep typing. (He's supposed to be napping. But I speak Chinese apparently, and he thinks he doesn't have to listen to me.)
     I've decided this: if you come to see me, you are gonna have to come to see me. Not my home. If you come to see my apartment, you are in a for a shock and a disappointment.
     When I see photos of my mother's house when I was little I am shocked by the messes we would make. But I dont ever remember mom freaking out about it. Every 2 months she'd have a breakdown and throw everything into black trash bags and haul it away. And then we'd restart. But the lesson I'm learning is that my kids could care less about what my house looks like. They just want to enjoy life. And it's my job to help them do so, just like my mother did for me and my siblings. So as long as we aren't living in a filth pit, I guess we can live with the variety of trucks, dolls, blocks, and dvds that litter my floor. In 20 years my home will still be here for me to clean, but my babies won't be here for me to hold and play with anymore. It's about what's most important RIGHT NOW. But right now, like this very minute, I need to go clean Mac and cheese out of my living room rug and water off the kid's bathroom floor (because brushing your teeth is actually code for playing in the sink.) Heaven help me.

-Nina

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