Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Why is there toothpaste on my bedstand?

Did I brush my teeth today? Yesterday? 
I hope Felix didn't eat any cat litter.
When was the last time I ate? 
I probably should vacuum.
Will anyone notice the baby food on my pants? 
I hope Penelope comes and eats the bug I just killed. 

This is my inner Mama-logue. The back and forth conversation throughout the day -- the endless list of things I ought to be doing, but don't have enough time to get to. The things I want to say outloud, but probably shouldnt. I think us Mama's talk to ourselves more often than we're willing to admit. 

I changed the sheets today because I honestly couldn't remember the last time I had. 
I clean the shower while I'm showering, maybe once a month? 
And when Felix spills pureed food on the floor, I wipe it up with a wet wash cloth and move on because, time. 
What Mom has time for things like this? 

In college, my roommates lived a lot more immaculately clean than anyone I'd ever seen. 
They liked things so clean that they didn't look lived in (to me anyways). 
At the time I thought that was better, I dreamed of having a house like that some day. 
But in the world I currently live in, I don't see that ever happening. Ever. 
Unless we had a house cleaner that came every day.
To you know, put the toothpaste back in the bathroom when it gets mysteriously put on my bedside table. 

There's nothing wrong with immaculately clean. I would love if everything in my house had a place, a place that could be out of plain sight if it needed to be. Closets for days. Organization for days. 
But, there's nothing wrong with where were at. 
We have about 1500 square feet worth of stuff packed into 700 square feet. We are cramped and slightly claustraphobic about it. We are in between places. In between a comfortable life that we've gotten fairly used to, and a new life, in a bigger home, in a different city -- that is just about to get started. We have a big, crazy, beautiful life. 

I would be lying if I told you I wasn't antsy. Every day I'm reminded of how badly I want to move, of how badly I want to get this new adventure started. I've resolved to stop nagging my husband about these things. I've decided to nag God instead. Because remember that desert I've been crawling through spiritually? Yep, I'm still there. Still trudging. Still trying to figure out where He fits into this messy life. It's more on me then it is on Him so I guess I'll start talking and see what happens. 

I hope to share more of this conversation in my head.
My mama-logue.  



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