the dirty truth

a few posts ago i wrote about the picture-perfect homes featured in blogs i read – clutter-free, perfectly organized, decorated beautifully – and the inadequacy i feel when i look around my own home, even though i understand that the pretty blog homes are not always so spectacular in their natural state.  so, in protest of the presentation of feigned perfection, i am airing my dirty laundry…metaphorically speaking.  (fear not, i am not actually going to show you a picture of Laundry Mountain because no one needs to see my worn underpants and sweaty gym clothes.)

the most lived-in area of the home:  kitchen and family room

kitchen:  dishes in the sink.  piles of clutter. torrents of dust rolling across every surface. my kitchen is impossible to keep clean, and will never be photo-worthy in its natural state.

family room:  toys everywhere.  dust bunny revolution in full force.  kid on the couch watching “Yo Gabba Gabba,” still wearing pajamas at 2pm.

i’ll spare you the details of our bathrooms; toilets in need of scrubbing, spot-covered mirrors, tubs whose memories of their last deep-clean have long been forgotten.  and don’t get me started on laundry-related rants.  it’s a never-ending battle; trying to keep a clean home when there are two kiddos running around is an exercise in futility.  stay tuned…

playing catch up

I wrote in my journal the other night:

going, going, going, but never gone. perpetually in the state of getting there, but never actually arriving at a destination.

I feel like life, these days, is all about spinning wheels. every day is pretty much just like the one that came before, and quite likely to be much the same as the one that comes next. this isn’t a complaint; spinning wheels isn’t necessarily a bad thing. the circuit is pleasant enough, and I am a fan of routine and predictability in general, but there are days when I get to bedtime and feel a sense of frustration at having not accomplished anything notable that day beyond feeding, diapering, entertaining two children. hell, there are days that simply making it to bedtime is a victory.

but I feel like I could be (should be?) doing more. and I’m not just referring to laundry, though that would be a good place to start. i look at other blogs and feel a sense of ineptitude. these other moms with their spotless, catalog-decorated houses with organized and labelled junk-drawers, showcasing their craft projects and culinary creations (in well-staged, perfectly lit photographs, naturally), tackling their lifelists with gusto and passion, canning food cultivated from their own backyard garden, homeschooling their kiddos, and still managing to shower and brush their hair every single day. I realize that these moms only show the slice of life that they choose to present to their audience, and underneath the glossy exterior they too (possibly?) have shamefully disorganized closets that burst forth upon opening, threatening to rain down an avalanche of wrapping paper tubes and never-used camping supplies. but that’s not the side we see, right? that’s not the life we’re trying to emulate in the short 24 hours we have each day. it’s hard to feel victorious when you can’t even tackle last week’s laundry and your husband is eating cereal for dinner again because last night’s dishes haven’t been washed yet.

how do real moms do it? not the perfectly coiffed moms behind sparkling, pretty blogs, but real moms who are just trying to manage the day-to-day to-do list of a normal family while simultaneously maintaining their sanity? help.

the ups and downs

i started a post titled “the grumbles” the other day, griping about the woes of solo-parenting two demanding kiddos, but i got called away by children and motherly duties before i had a chance to finish it.  it’s tucked away in my drafts folder now.  when i returned to my computer the next day and i saw that draft sitting there, i smiled happily and realized that i didn’t need to finish it because, miracle of miracles, the grumbles had disappeared!  grumbly wednesday was followed by a pretty darn awesome thursday, full of smiles and laughter and cooperative children.  ain’t that grand?!

it seems that that’s the way it is, this life with kids.  one day is up, the next is down.  there will be good days and there will be great days, but there are the inevitable awful, want-to-sell-your-children-to-the-gypsies days tucked in there as well.  there are plenty of days when my well of patience and laughter is full – those are the fun days, the days when i can just roll with the punches – but there are also days when i feel like a tightly stretched wire, constantly vibrating and threatening to snap.  those days are not fun.  those are the days when my daughter’s dawdling and insistent-yet-incompetent independence are just about too much to handle.  those are the days when her constant noise and motion are a real challenge for my silence-and-stillness craving soul.  but she is three; amazingly, wonderfully, delightfully three.  confident and intelligent and hilarious and curious…yet moody.  yes, three is definitely moody.  she is a challenge, for sure, but she is awesome.

and the boy.  oh, how i love the boy.  he has my heart.  i want to scoop him up and drink him in, devouring the chub of his thighs and the sweetness of his cheeks.  he is full of laughs and motion.  he crawls, he climbs, he stands, he is never still.  he is six-months old.  i think back to the days before we decided to have a second child and i cannot believe that i ever doubted that i could possibly have room in my heart for two kids.  ::sigh::

but juggling two kids alone is tough.  holding the baby (to prevent him from attempting to climb the stairs or scale the kitchen cabinets) while simultaneously tending to the girl-child who needs me to wipe her tushie/have a tea party/pour a glass of juice/fetch a snack is exhausting.  wonderful, yet exhausting.  my husband is an amazing, helpful father and partner but he also works long hours and has been traveling more than usual lately.  i have mad respect for single parents who juggle kiddos and careers by themselves.  after three days of solo-parenting i am spent.

up and down, the grumbles will come and go, and i give thanks on the days when the awesome outweighs the awful.  i will continue to rely on coffee and wine to get me through, savoring every moment (because i’m supposed to) even if i have to do so through gritted teeth while counting to ten v-e-r-y, v-e-r-y slowly (because sometimes i have to).

so this is what crow tastes like

remember that time (was it only yesterday?) when i was crowing about how awesome i am at motherhood? well, BWAHAHAHAAA and HAAA HAAA. today totally screwed that whole notion.

i decided at 10:45 that i should go to the gym for an 11:45 class. the gym is half an hour away, so rush rush rush. YESSSSSSSS! i will work out! i will be physical! this will energize me to tackle the rest of the day! i drove to the gym and hit every single red light on the way. stressssssssss! and then the parking lot was full. suckkkkkkkkk! and then the daycare was packed. oh nooooooooooo! and the class was at capacity. dammmmmmmmnnnn! so i left. and drove another half hour through midday traffic (::stabs self and other drivers in fit of rage::) to take my daughter to the park instead.

but wait….it gets better. we’re about a minute from the park and i hear my kiddo say “ewwww, yuck! sticky!” from the back seat. “hmmm,” i think. “i wonder what she is talking about.” and then BLAMMO.

“HOLY CRAP. IS THAT VOMIT?!”

note to parents: blueberries and yogurt do not smell good when they are regurgitated. especially after three hours of digestion. and most definitely not on a 90-degree day.

holy, lord. and guess what? of course i don’t have any extra weather-appropriate clothes in the car. here, kid, put on this fleece jacket and sweatpants. mama needs to run to target to buy you some non-puke stained clothes.

of course, since this is a gold medal sort of day, her lovies puppy and blankie were soaked in purple blueberry retch so they had to be laundered before she could sleep, delaying nap time by a good two hours, in which my sweet-hearted toddler became a raging mess of toddler-tude, and i may or may not have snapped at her to “just stop hitting me for the love of god i am going to sell you to the gypsies if you don’t cut it the fuck out!” certainly not my crowning moment as a mom. but you can sympathize, right? right?!!

and now i may or may not be buzzing on half a bottle of sauvingnon blanc and a delicious vodka limeade cocktail, and am most definitely be praying that tomorrow is a better day.