Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Its just a cheerio, right?

If you know me at all, you know that I like lists. I like organization.

I like to keep a clean house, laundry put away, dishes out of sight, and the smell of cleaning solution alluding to the fact that my house is "sparkling".

When I got married it was a huge adjustment for many reasons. But one of the biggest ones was that my husband was kind of a slob. He didn't do it on purpose or with malice...he just never learned to clean or pick up after himself. He lived at home until we got married...and since his mom cleaned the house he never saw a need--even when he was the one making the mess.

In fact, I remember when we were engaged and our wedding date was looming, that my mother in law to be looked at me and laughed as she filled a garbage can FULL of plastic water bottles. She looked at me and said, soon this will be your problem! The water bottles were all jace. All over the house. 

So I adapted. We didn't have water bottles...that would solve that problem, right?!? Wrong. It just became cups left out. CUPS EVERYWHERE!!! ah!

But, with just the two of us, I was able to keep a clean home for the most part. (please please please never go in my bedroom unless its an emergency. that is the compromise i'm working out with my husband...anything of his needs to be thrown in there instead of strewn about the house)

When I was put on bed rest with Nash...I freaked out. Yes of course about trying to keep him cooking longer and my health, but I was no longer able to keep up on trying to keep our house picked up, dinner made, garbage out...all of that went bye bye. Jace tried to help some...but it just never stuck in his head that this was his mess too and he needed to be responsible to clean it up.

Then Nash came and my health wasn't good. Cleaning? I didn't know what that word meant other than diapers, garbage out, dishes done, bottles sanitized, and sheets and burp cloths washed. Vacuuming, dusting, windows, scrubbing grout? Last thing on my mind. Then it was supposed to get better once he started sleeping...and that just never happened.

Fast forward to now. We have our own, spacious home. Its just the 3 of us. I want so badly to keep up on things, but I find myself exhausted most of the time. And honestly the task seems daunting.

So, if you come to my house...please excuse the 20 cups throughout the front rooms, the crayons and markers all over the family room, the toy chest that looks like it exploded, and the zillion of cheerios that my son just dumped all over the dining room floor. Oops...that crunch? No biggie. 
Its just a cheerio, right?

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