As my 5.5 year old so lovingly reminded me the other day… I’m old.
32 years old to be exact. Apparently, with the ripe old age of 32 comes the ability to let go of caring about unnecessary and trivial things in life. As my mother would say, “my give a sh*tter is broken”.
Years ago, before having children, I had MAJOR OCD. My little city house had to be in tip-top shape at all times. Not even so much as a throw pillow could be out of place. Throw blankets had to be folded perfectly. Nothing around the house could be amiss. No dishes in the sink. No shoes laying around. And I would *simply die* if someone so much as thought about wiping their hands on one of my decorative towels.
I also naively assumed that my children would one day have perfectly ironed clothing with their hair finely combed at all times and their attitudes would be just peachy. HA!
Now I can say that with my easy-going firstborn, I continued on this path of obsessive “perfection”. My house was still always tidy, my laundry never sat unfolded, and his bib, pacifier & outfits matched daily. He made it easy for me to remain on a dangerous path of unattainable perfection.
Fast forward to a wild, non-stop second child, a house on 2 muddy acres & a business that has significantly picked up. I just. don’t. care.
Laundry sits unfolded in baskets for days at a time, there’s yogurt or snot on probably every throw pillow I own, I can’t keep up with the dusting to save my life, and the majority of my kids’ clothes are permanently stained with red mud.
My mom recently stayed the weekend with our boys and I think she was legitimately offended by the way their clothes were not-so folded nicely in the drawers and all of their socks were just thrown as lonely little singles into one big drawer. As much as I despise this saying, it just is what it is.
But most importantly…I’m okay with it. I understand that I’ve got a lot more going on now than I did 4 years ago and I’m able to give myself grace. My kids might be muddy and have ragged hair, but they’re really happy. And all my dishtowels might be lovingly stained with Cheetos and skittles, but they still dry our hands just the same.
So, if you feel like you’re constantly spinning your wheels trying to keep up with what your life “should” be and what everything “should” look like… here’s your permission to stop. Just stop and breathe and enjoy the things in life that matter. Those dishes can wait, mama. Your sanity can not.
