Dishes in the sink, socks on the floor, and everything in between.

(This original post was written over 4 years ago. I'm not sure why I didn't publish it, but I didn't, at the time. I found it in my "drafts" folder. After rereading it today, I felt like it was worth sharing with you all.)

It occurred to me today that I'm not alone in my quest for a clean house.  As I walk over piles of shoes by the front door, toys in the living room, crumbs randomly sprinkled on the kitchen floor, I know that families everywhere deal with the same thing.  So what's the big deal?  Nothing.  I just had a few thoughts to share.

We have 13 children.  A plethora of shoes by the front door comes with that, as does a plethora of coats by the back door, towels in the bathroom, etc.  You get the picture.  We measure things in dozens here. I have been in the homes of others with a large number of children.  Some houses look like mine, but a few look like they are museums.  When we were parents of only young children, we would get invited to these homes.  I didn't notice any extra shoes by the front door, any wad of used towels on the floor in the bathroom, any dirty dishes in the sink, or any toys left on the living room floor.  The furniture was perfect, the walls were perfectly clean with no dirty handprints on them, the windows were pristine, there were no holes through the sheetrock where a door handle had gone through, there were no piles of laundry, and certainly no overflowing trash cans. I was convinced that I was a failure as a mother, wife, and housekeeper.

Even today, as I step over the "stuff" littering the floors, my mind wanders back to those perfect houses, to that perfect house.  I truly wonder now, 15 years later, if I was a failure, if I am a failure.  Were those houses lived in or were their lives spent maintaining the houses and not living?  Maybe you can have both.

I look back and think of the years spent trying to make my house look like that house, when my children were little.  They were wasted years.  They are years my children remember with few fond memories of time spent together, and too many memories of cleaning, and impossible standards of cleanliness expected. I can remember the times people came into the house and said, "I don't know how you do it!  How can you keep your house clean with all of your kids?  I only have 3 and my house is constantly a mess."  I know, through private conversations, that those women felt a heavy burden because of my house.  I perpetuated the cycle all over again.

Don't get me wrong, I like things tidy. I don't like walking over piles of things on my floor.  We clean our home once a week.  We don't live like slobs.  I have tried to learn the art of balancing life with my desire to have a clean home.  There are weeks we don't get to the cleaning, and its ok! If someone pops over unexpectedly, I don't cringe.  I invite them in to my home.  If people are offended by my home, then I refer them to the following:  The people that mind, don't matter, and the people that matter don't mind.

So mother, if you are out there, stop cleaning your house.  Don't be afraid to let people come over and see you as you are.  Pick up a book and read to your kids.  Make some cookies.  Ride your bikes together.  Live your life.  Have a home that is clean enough to be healthy, and dirty enough for its residents to be happy.