And yet. Here I am. Every morning. Every night. Frazzled, short tempered, overwhelmed, ungrateful, and incapable of achieving a state that even remotely resembles relaxation. Everywhere I turn there's something that demands my immediate irritation. Dirty socks farting from between couch cushions, unflushed toilets and dribbles on the seat, laundry hampers overflowing (with clothes that totally could have been hung up and worn another day), electronics left out on the deck overnight, a box of popsicles left out on the counter overday, the smartass banter between the highly processed tweens of The Disney Channel, Gus shouting at Patrick, Patrick whining about Gus, homework that needs to be reviewed and initialed, another "exciting" upcoming A-Thon!, a survey about whether my child and I enjoyed the last A-Thon, the never ending bathroom renovation and subsequent Insufficient Toilet and Mirror to Human Ratios ... I could go on and on.
And I do.
Not only can I not stop being annoyed, I can't stop SPREADING THE WORD ABOUT IT. Can't stop firing off verbal press releases to my family to "build awarenss" of my chronic disapproval. Hey guys, thanks for "throwing away" your miniature raisin boxes like I asked you to, but maybe next time you could use an actual trash can instead of the potted mums that are rotting on the front porch THANKS.
They hate me.
I make our mornings miserable, so I can get to work on time, so I can get home in time to make our evenings miserable. I AM A VERY BUSY WOMAN.
And I have no idea how to stop the cycle. The more chaos and clutter, the more I bitch and moan and nag. The more I bitch and moan and nag, the more they tune me out. The more they tune me out ... the more chaos, and clutter.
So stop complaining, right? That's what I should do. Stop complaining, count my blessings, and embrace the inevitable chaos of life as the working mother of two young boys.
But I can't.
I was raised to believe that no one is allowed to relax until everything's done. The house I grew up in did not have overflowing laundry or popsicles melting on the counter. It did not have not following directions, or refusing to set the able, or I'll clean it up later. It did not have whining or talking back. Those things were not allowed.
And now, I want to not allow those things. IT'S MY TURN.
And no one wants to play with me. Shocking.
So how do you do it? What are your secrets for embracing chaos? The noise, the clutter, the flagrant NON COMPLIANCE. What rituals, rules or mantras have made you more able to step back and be grateful for the house, if not the mess. The healthy kids, if not their "healthy" mouths. The indoor plumbing, if not the urine, URINE, EVERYWHERE SOMEONE ELSE'S URINE.
What's your secret?