I found out one of the girls that works with Van during childcare went to the same school as my husband. Thrilled to make a connection (I'm THAT person), I threw my husbands name out to her.
"Hmm, no, I don't recognize his name."
"Well, what year did you graduate high school?" doing some investigative work here.
Excuse me? like just a few months ago? I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped as she just giggled akwardly. I thought we were all the same age here, cutie. Thought you were my peer, barbie. I think it's time for me to go home and have some serious self talk about how old I actually am and how that's quite okay and I'm no longer a peer of the cute babysitter girls. Damn.
That story has nothing to do with anything, I just had to share it because I'm still in a little bit of denial and dealing with some PTSD from the aforementioned gym teenybopper; I'm toying with actually being old enough to have kids and people aren't shocked anymore when I tell them I have two. I have two, can you believe it?! I obviously started when I was SO young, that explains it. No, no explanation needed, weirdo. You are getting old! What's happening?! Help!
Let's move onto my actual meaningful thoughts before I get another gray hair.
It's really hard for me to keep my house clean, you guys know this. It's a constant nagging thing. Everyone else has a house that keeps itself clean and somehow my sparkle fairy took a forever leave and I'm pouting on the floor waiting her return.
O my gosh it takes so much maintenance to keep this place looking and feeling right. Throw another load in before drop off, start the dishwasher before nap time, vacuum, cobwebs, keep it all working. Constant work.
This is how it works with my insides too.
Lies enter and I gotta sweep those babies out and replace them with truth. All day, every day.
Again. Over and over.
I sit in laziness and watch things that aren't good for me and am surprised when my soul feels dry. I say something about someone else that would hurt them and don't make it right.
It all sits, sits right there in my heart and makes a big fat mess.
Continual cleaning out is what it takes to have a free and fresh soul.
Checking in, asking for help, running it by someone you trust. Hard work. Praying. Seeking. Reading. Redoing. Apologizing. Establishing what you want to stand for. How you want to treat people and then trying your best. Failing and then trying your best again.
I'm out of breath just typing this. It's exhausting to work on myself, just like working on the house makes me sweat and want to sit and watch Ellen with champagne and cake batter Oreos. Which I do while I fold laundry, amen? Praise God for 4pm.
It takes time and it takes work, guys. Really good things do. I'm here to say it's worth it. Stopping and apologizing instead of letting something hurt someone. Listening to what you say to your kids and making sure it's what you want to say, what you want to stand for.
And let me tell you, there is nothing better than a sparkling clean house. But here's another secret, it doesn't last. The dust will resurface, the toys will spread like wildfire and your dog will throw up on your thick rug, damn him.
But you, you keep cleaning. Keep putting in the hard work. It's worth it and we all have to do it. No one has a free pass here (unless you have the magical sparkle fairy employed and by all means, send her right over).