A Misspent Life

I can’t remember where, but my Mom and I saw a sign that said, “A perfectly kept house is a sign of a misspent life.” We got a good chuckle out of it (especially since I was on bed rest at the time and cleaning nothing myself) and shared it with my little sister who stresses over finding time for perfection (although she does a much better job at accomplishing this than she thinks). Now I suddenly find myself here with four children, ages six and under, oftentimes alone, and have given that statement a lot of thought.

Kids are only little once and it passes far too quickly. I realized this the other day when I was at Hunter’s tee ball game. I waved at him when I got there. He smiled bashfully, but wouldn’t wave, suddenly aware of his peers and his “embarrassing” Mom who would dare to wave at him while he’s playing baseball of all things.:) Around the same time we had parent/teacher conferences at his school. I teased him and asked him why he wasn’t holding my hand any more. I got the same bashful smile. The attitude was an “at home, maybe, but don’t make me do it at school, Mom.” Don’t get me wrong, this child is a sweetheart. He still kisses and hugs me goodbye, cuddles with me on the couch, and tells me I’m the prettiest Mom he’s ever had (it’s still lost on him that I’m the ONLY Mom he’s ever had), but his childhood is passing. He’s growing up. It breaks my heart, but it is what it is and honestly, it’s supposed to happen (although I think that’s dumb and that children should stay little forever).

So anyway, that was a tangent, I guess. I’ve just been wondering who told us we needed a perfectly clean house, perfectly groomed children, and hair that looks like we just left the salon? It’s ridiculous. Most days you’ll see me in a baseball cap. I’m very good at ignoring the salon hair requirement (don’t be jealous, everybody has strengths). So why is it that I’m not so good at ignoring the other two? Who cares if my kitchen looks (whether or not it actually is) freshly mopped every day? Does it honestly matter if the dust building up on my picture frames waits until tomorrow for its elimination? Do my bathrooms have to smell like I spent all day scrubbing them (and in the case of my kids’ bathroom, that’s about how long it takes)? Do a few toys lying around somehow indicate that I’m a failure of a Mother? Does the fact that I let my children pick out their own clothes, resulting in something only to be rivaled by a professionally planned clash day at school really make others believe that I don’t know how to shop or do laundry at appropriate intervals? Does the fact that my children come in from playing outside, covered head to toe in mud (and this happens most days) make others believe that I don’t know how to bathe my children or make them behave?

The answer to all of these questions: I hope not.

Today I was thinking back on all of the spring and summer moments when I sent my kids outside to play so I could clean the house without interruption or an added mess. How sad. I’ve resolved to change it. I’ve thought about all the times when my kids have asked me to play a game with them or to come outside and “see what they can do!” and I’ve told them I’d do it later because I was busy doing dishes or scrubbing a toilet. How sad. I’ve resolved to change it. I’ve thought about the times I’ve laid down a sleeping or cuddly baby because I felt somehow propelled to get up and be “more productive.” How sad. I’ve resolved to change it.

So, let me ask you this: What better way to spend your time than with your children? And I don’t just mean being around your children. I’m around my children basically all day, every day. It’s a rare occasion that that isn’t the case. But being around my children is not the same as being with my children. The reality of life is that there is nothing more productive than cuddling with my newborn baby girl . . . or my three year old girl for that matter. There is nothing more productive than playing with my kids and observing them as they learn and grow. If it’s important to them that you witness it, then it’s the important thing you should be doing. There’s nothing more productive than teaching your kids to work with you (even though it takes like 8 times as long to load an empty dishwasher) and then enjoying play time just as much.

Productivity is measured by the accomplishment of a desired objective (and hopefully within a desirable time frame). Is my life’s objective to die with a spotlessly clean home with children around me that look like they jumped off of the page of a Baby Gap ad and every hair on my head in its rightful place?

The answer to that question: I sure as heck hope not!

So this past week I decided to change it. I forced the thought out of my head that said my bathrooms needed to be scrubbed and went on a ridiculously hot walk to the river with my kiddos. The gravel road was too bumpy for Avery to ride in her stroller, so she ended up having to be carried instead. We got there and there were so many people fishing that we couldn’t throw rocks like we’d planned. So we made the long haul back (sweat dripping on those of us who just spent two months on bed rest and had a three week old baby covered in a blanket across our chests). Annoyance would have been easy, but I had bouncy, bubbly children who thought running through the sprinkler for the first time this year would be a great alternative. Great. Except I hadn’t bought new swimming suits yet. This didn’t matter at all for the boys. Haylee on the other hand is growing like a weed. I told her to wear her shorts instead. This resulted in a fit that even the most dramatic could not rival. “How come you haven’t got me one yet!? Go to the store and get it!” (as if we live merely down the street from any available shopping). “It’s not FAIR!” The pre-revelation me would have sent her fit-throwing behind-side to bed because there was no way in heck my little girl was going to waltz around in a swimming suit that was riding up her rear-end, straps falling down. That would be indecent and would make me look like I didn’t know what size of clothes to buy my own children. But no. Instead I thought, “what the heck.” So, she donned that swimming suit in all of her cute, chubby glory. The tears dried and I only had to remove that swimming suit out of her little bum about 8 times. And who cares. And the embarrassing truth is, I don’t have a neighbor who can even see my house, let alone my children running around in my yard. My perfection paranoia is on the verge of ridiculous.

As I sit here typing this I laugh to myself about the ridiculousness of it all. I actually apologized to my sister (who came to stay with me for a week while I was on bed rest) because my house was messy when she came and I was lying on the couch. Uh, I was supposed to be lying on the couch. My house should have been a mess. It’s ridiculous.

Am I suggesting that you never clean your house because you have better things to do? Absolutely not. A clean home is a place where the Spirit can enter, children can learn, and people want to be. What I am suggesting is that perfection be flushed down your not-so-recently-scrubbed toilet. This is easier for some than the perfectionist-wired others, but it can be done. And it needs to be done. Dust will stick around. Newborn baby cuddling time won’t. Toilets can wait. Kids learning to climb the rope in the yard or ride their bike without training wheels can’t. So, throw on a baseball cap and plop down on the couch with your sweet, little baby. Drop the dishes in the sink and get outside with your kids while they do amazing things like . . . somersaults in the grass.:) Spend a little more time doing the things that matter this summer and a little less time doing the things that don’t. Your kids will thank you and you’ll never in a million years regret it.