April 21, 2016

I Won't Apologize For My "Messy" House

I've come to the realization, I will never have a perfectly clean house like you see on Pinterest.  Maybe in 20 years, assuming my children move out of the house then, I can and will but for now it's not an option and I'm OK with that.

That's not to say my house is filthy, it's not, it's "lived in" though.  If you come over to my house on any given day you might find toys that have somehow made their way from the playroom to the living room.  There will inevitably be dog toys to trip over.  There might even be a few dishes in the sink or pans on the stove from breakfast.  Remnants from lunch might be lingering, depending on what time you show up- my kids are slow, drive-by eaters.  And, no matter how many times I clean it, my sliding glass door will always have finger/nose prints on it because I gave up on that a long time ago.
James helping me clean the kitchen sink.  Little helpers are the best.

You won't, however, be nervous to sit on my couch {I've been to houses that I was afraid to sit down anywhere}.  My floors are vacuumed/swept, all surface areas are dusted and things that don't belong to children or dogs are in their rightful places.  My bathrooms aren't growing science experiments.  My kitchen counters are wiped down.  It's "company ready", whatever that means.

Normally when people come over and things are out of place I apologize.  I normally say something like, "oh don't mind this..." as I tuck it in it's spot.  But why?  No one, and I mean no one, has ever come into my house and thought, "ew, gross..." and chances are good that they probably never will so why do I apologize for living in my home?

Well no more.  I will not apologize for toys being strewn all over because it means my kids are happy and playing.  I won't say sorry for their being dishes in the sink because chances are good that me and the kids did some baking that day.  I won't apologize for the beds not being made because, well, I don't care about that stuff because no one goes into our bedrooms, usually.  I will not apologize for the crayons and coloring books spread all over the kitchen table because it means Kendall is being creative.  Hell I won't even feel bad about the Play-Doh smashed into the kitchen rug because it means my kids were using their imagination.

In a blink of an eye these things will no longer be.  My kids will have friends who they hang out with vs playing with toys.  Pretty soon we will be out of the Play-Doh and coloring stages of life and I will miss it, truly.  I will be able to steam-mop the floors without fear of a dog or kid walking in with muddy feet.  My sliding glass door will no longer be covered in finger/nose prints.  My kitchen sink will be empty.  Kendall will choose baking with friends over baking with me.  When all of that happens my heart will hurt, I'm sure of it.

There was a day and time where I would be embarrassed if someone came over and something was out of place or there were toys all over the place.  I can remember times where Jimmy would say "______ is stopping by" and I would immediately panic and go into a cleaning frenzy in 2.5 seconds.  And then I realized that there are far more important things in life than having a spotless house and making memories with my kids is one of them.  

What's the saying? "Cleaning and scrubbing can wait 'til tomorrow. For babies grow up we've learned to our sorrow, So quiet down cobwebs and dust go to sleep I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep."  Yeah, that.  


  1. I have come to the same realization too. I am done picking over my house. I have made the rule that as long as my house it picked up before we go to bed I am good.

    1. Totally agree. There were times I would pick up during nap but I barely do that anymore, what's the point?

  2. My house is spotless for approximately 24 hours every other week, which is when the cleaning lady comes. If it weren't for her, my bathroom would be growing science experiments. The other day I kicked legos out of the way so I could workout in the living room. Didn't pick them up, just kicked them.