Motherhood is great, really. And no, I’m not writing that sarcastically – it actually is great. Challenging, very, but great. The snuggles, the kisses, the laughter and smiles and joy. The wonderment in their eyes – it’s all what I live for. I love waking up to their sleepy eyes and groggy smiles, even if they wake up at the crack ass of dawn and have more energy hours before I even have a smidgen.
But there are constant battles that I lose daily. The battle to have clean windows is one. I’ll spend the morning washing all my windows, only to have them covered in hand prints, kid goo and dog snot less than half an hour later. It’s their mission to ensure that all my efforts are fruitless on that front.
Then there’s the carpets and couches. Oh how I wish I could keep them clean! My youngest has a horrid habit of taking his juice and spitting or dumping it out all over the carpet and couches. I have no idea why he does this, and I’ve definitely tried to prevent it. Usually he isn’t allowed to have his sippy cup unless I’m right there to prevent that. But there is the odd occasion when I’m upstairs getting ready for the day and Daddy gives him a sippy cup of juice. In that 3 minute time frame (yes, 3 minutes – excluding makeup. Most days it’s a win if I’m dressed and have my hair brushed), I come down to juice everywhere and a toddler that needs a full wardrobe change seconds before we need to get ready to leave for the bus.
I used to wait until the kids were in bed, then get out the Sol-U-Mel cleaner with hot water and a sponge and sob as I tried to scrub the couches and carpets clean of juice stains. The couches came clean easily enough, but I might as well have been dumping more juice onto the carpet for all my scrubbing did. Carpets are terrible, seriously…they are the bane of my existence. Heh. Bane. Really though, they are. I keep hoping with all my heart that Santa will buy me a steam cleaner, but Santa doesn’t seem to get as offended by the terribly unclean carpet as I do. Santa keeps saying “Chill out mama, we have kids!”
How could I possibly have forgotten that we have kids? I mean, look at them. They’re handsome little devils. And they’re both little handfuls of trouble. I still haven’t really fully accepted the fact that kids = mess. I know way too many people (who probably don’t have white carpets, I might add) with spotless houses and clean faced children. How do you do it? I have to wrestle Archer to the ground and pin him down if I want to clean his nose, which is always runny this time of the year. Then he’ll kick me in the armpit.
My kids get time outs, they get disciplined when needed – but that doesn’t stop them from misbehaving. They’re natural heathens, those children. Trouble makers, through and through. They live for the thrill of causing mayhem. They get it from their father, it’s actually a known trait in his side of the family. I have nothing to do with it. Ehem.
I’ll wash the floors, vacuum, dust, do all of my cleaning and seconds later it will look as if I hadn’t lifted a damn finger. It’s exhausting, really, but I cannot stand messes and even though I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle, I keep charging forward…much like the Maple Leafs do with their quest to win the play offs. OOOO BURN. Yeah I went there, and I’m from the GTA with a husband and in-laws who are die-hard fans.
What losing battles do you feel like you are constantly fighting day to day? Please share all your horrid stories with me and make me feel better. Please.