Coming Clean

If you'd walked into my house yesterday around 3:30pm, this is the snap shot you would have seen:

A love seat wedged into the doorway of one of my rooms on the first floor, me unable to get it through (probably should have gone the other way). And in my moment of pure desperation, I relied on my daughter,shaking her magic princess wand at the couch and the doorway to see if she could get it to budge.I looked at that pink toy wand in her hand, as she shook it from side to side and secretly hoped it really possessed the magic powers she insisted it did!


Our house is over 100 years old, which equals very small doorways. I guess I should have listened to my husband when he told me to wait for him to get home from work because we would have to carry the couches around the front to the back from the outside. But stubborn as usual, I didn't listen and when confronted with a task, something I really want to get done, instant gratification takes over and there is no waiting!

I swore I'd never become one of those parents, with one of those houses, where it looked like the kids have taken over. We moved into this house 2 years ago, a nice 103 year old Colonial/Victorian style house in my husband's hometown and under some obviously very cloudy thinking, I was determined to keep it immaculate.
I was determined to make it look like, at least from the entrance to the front room and halfway back that this area was untouched by kids, or at the very least, neat kids who knew not to make a mess and put their toys back....Right.

But my reality check took place somewhere between the one hundredth piece of Geo Trax and the the birth of the third baby. The back room I had been insisting was "their" space was not enough.
So I reorganized our house to fit them.

But isn't that life as parents.

I giggle now, that I am on my 3rd, at the first time parents or parents-to-be who insist, life will be the same after kids. Those who insist the kids will be on their schedule and life will remain the same. Life will remain organized, schedules intact and everything will go as planned.
And then somewhere between the 10th time you leave the house and get the kids buckled into their car seats and and someone shouts, 'I have to go potty', after you asked 3 minutes ago or the time you get your daughter dressed, put your shoes on, grab your purse and go to grab her and you realized that your once neatly dressed baby is now...naked, you give in just a bit...and then a whole lot.

And you realize, although they don't have total control, you reorganize your house and your car, giving in for that mini van you swore you'd never buy. And you give up your Coach bag and designer heels, because you know you can't chase those kids with 3 stillettos.

You organize your life to fit them, and at times, in those rare glimpses of reality, you realize it's one of the best decisions you've ever made.