Here are pictures of my kitchen floor and my hardwood floor. Why put pictures of your floors, you ask? Well, they provided me with a greal deal of frustration yesterday, so I wanted you to be able to picture them as you read. So enjoy the following story on how a simple thing such as a clean floor, can be an unattainable goal. 
Yesterday I woke up tired, yet determined to try to clean at least some of the filth in my house. Here were my goals:
--sweep my kitchen and living room and entryway
--mop all above floors
--finish 'helping' the kids clean the basement (ie-put their toys away, hang up their many costumes, and pick up the garbage that's accumulated since I last reorganized the basement in December).
Fair goals, I thought. Not too much, but enough to be encouraging when it was all finally completed.
But, unfortunately, I learned quickly that, not only were these goals unbelievably 'lofty', they were completely unattainable. I'll explain why.
At 8:30 I began feeding the kids breakfast--a huge accomplishment seeing as it's been closer to 10:00 for the past few weeks. Cait is screaming to be fed, although she's not really 'due' to eat for another hour. So, I throw yogurt, juice, apples, and toast on the table, call it breakfast and begin feeding Cait. By 9:00, the kids are finished breakfast and headed to play in the basement, for a 'few' minutes, while Mommy says, "Let me just finish feeding Cait, and cleaning the floors, and I'll be down soon. Then, my lovely children, we will commence cleaning the basement together. And then we will have lunch."
Ya right. Had I known what would really happen, I probably would've sat down on the couch and had a good laugh at the absurdity of my plans. But, I didn't know, and so I continued on.
With Cait fed and burped, I promply placed her in her little rocking chair, grabbed the broom, and began sweeping my kitchen. Cait began fussing. Found her soother on the floor. Licked it clean. Inserted it in her mouth, while rocking her and telling her that she was fine. Telling her. Not suggesting it. She was fine. So, off to sleep now. Mommy's got cleanin' to do. And, for a few minutes she was fine.
A few minutes later, I was back to sweeping the floor and actually really looking at it for the first time in...well, too long. And it was not a pretty sight. I moved onto the livingroom, and checked the time: 10:15. WHAT?! That can't be right. I check again. Yep, 10:16 now. Ok. I pick up the pace and start sweeping like I'm in the Curling Championships. Cait begins fussing now. I yell from the hallway that, yet again, 'you're alright.' She apparently doesn't agree and within seconds is in a full-blown scream. I rush over, find her soother, insert it in her wide-open mouth, she realizes what I'm trying to do, and gets even more mad. I check the time. 10:21. Wait a minute. She can't be hungry now. It's only been...2 hours. Oh. She's 7 weeks old. Oh ya...growth spurt. Ok. Quick break. Feed Cait.
It's now 11:10, and Cait's fed, burped and ready once again for the loving cuddle of her rocking chair. I grab the broom, and finish sweeping in record time. Run downstairs and grab the mop. Throw a load in the washer while I'm there. Tell my other two kids that lunch will be ready soon, and run back upstairs, mop in hand, ready to tackle the dirt and grime.
Begin putting all the kitchen chairs onto tables & counters, and notice that they too, could use a scrubbing. Try to move past this thought by convincing myself that I'll get to them 'tomorrow.' (ya, right). 11:35 now, and I begin mopping the kitchen floor. Finish at 12:05. Big kitchen? Nope. Just kept busy refereeing my oldest two, as they begin to get on each other's nerves and get hungry...busy giving Cait her soother and rocking her...busy answering the phone and taking messages for my hubby, who, lucky guy, is out for the morning.
Begin moving chairs around in living room and finally start mopping. Several more distractions later, finally finish mopping floor. Decide to forget about cleaning entryway. Will do it 'later.' Now, it's 12:30. Kids are sitting at top of basement stairs, begging for food and water. Tell them to wait 10 more minutes, and run through mental checklist of lunch ideas: kraft dinner? none left. shoot. sandwich's? no meat, or cheese. shoot again. check pantry: can of tomato soup. Bingo! Tomato soup and grilled cheese it is! Except only have cheese slices...will have to do today. Whip up lunch and get kids settled.
Cait is now stirring, wanting to eat again really soon. Thankfully, my sister holds her while I inhale my lunch, and then I feed my baby once again. I then decide to try to find the humor in my morning, and leave a message for my friend Sarah, 'bragging' about all that I got accomplished...and it only took 4 hours!!
All that to say, the rest of the day was a wash--my son's fever (3rd day) spiked up again after lunch, I gave up my goal of cleaning the basement, and spent the rest of the afternoon with my girls, feeding,burping,and rocking one, while watching the other do dance after dance...all the while fighting 'guilt-driven' thoughts: I didn't accomplish my goals--what a lousy wife/homemaker, I ignored my kids all morning--what a lousy mom. Stupid thoughts, I know. Untrue. I know.
But, still thoughts to work through...and struggle with, on this journey they call motherhood.
--sweep my kitchen and living room and entryway
--mop all above floors
--finish 'helping' the kids clean the basement (ie-put their toys away, hang up their many costumes, and pick up the garbage that's accumulated since I last reorganized the basement in December).
Fair goals, I thought. Not too much, but enough to be encouraging when it was all finally completed.
But, unfortunately, I learned quickly that, not only were these goals unbelievably 'lofty', they were completely unattainable. I'll explain why.
At 8:30 I began feeding the kids breakfast--a huge accomplishment seeing as it's been closer to 10:00 for the past few weeks. Cait is screaming to be fed, although she's not really 'due' to eat for another hour. So, I throw yogurt, juice, apples, and toast on the table, call it breakfast and begin feeding Cait. By 9:00, the kids are finished breakfast and headed to play in the basement, for a 'few' minutes, while Mommy says, "Let me just finish feeding Cait, and cleaning the floors, and I'll be down soon. Then, my lovely children, we will commence cleaning the basement together. And then we will have lunch."
Ya right. Had I known what would really happen, I probably would've sat down on the couch and had a good laugh at the absurdity of my plans. But, I didn't know, and so I continued on.
With Cait fed and burped, I promply placed her in her little rocking chair, grabbed the broom, and began sweeping my kitchen. Cait began fussing. Found her soother on the floor. Licked it clean. Inserted it in her mouth, while rocking her and telling her that she was fine. Telling her. Not suggesting it. She was fine. So, off to sleep now. Mommy's got cleanin' to do. And, for a few minutes she was fine.
A few minutes later, I was back to sweeping the floor and actually really looking at it for the first time in...well, too long. And it was not a pretty sight. I moved onto the livingroom, and checked the time: 10:15. WHAT?! That can't be right. I check again. Yep, 10:16 now. Ok. I pick up the pace and start sweeping like I'm in the Curling Championships. Cait begins fussing now. I yell from the hallway that, yet again, 'you're alright.' She apparently doesn't agree and within seconds is in a full-blown scream. I rush over, find her soother, insert it in her wide-open mouth, she realizes what I'm trying to do, and gets even more mad. I check the time. 10:21. Wait a minute. She can't be hungry now. It's only been...2 hours. Oh. She's 7 weeks old. Oh ya...growth spurt. Ok. Quick break. Feed Cait.
It's now 11:10, and Cait's fed, burped and ready once again for the loving cuddle of her rocking chair. I grab the broom, and finish sweeping in record time. Run downstairs and grab the mop. Throw a load in the washer while I'm there. Tell my other two kids that lunch will be ready soon, and run back upstairs, mop in hand, ready to tackle the dirt and grime.
Begin putting all the kitchen chairs onto tables & counters, and notice that they too, could use a scrubbing. Try to move past this thought by convincing myself that I'll get to them 'tomorrow.' (ya, right). 11:35 now, and I begin mopping the kitchen floor. Finish at 12:05. Big kitchen? Nope. Just kept busy refereeing my oldest two, as they begin to get on each other's nerves and get hungry...busy giving Cait her soother and rocking her...busy answering the phone and taking messages for my hubby, who, lucky guy, is out for the morning.
Begin moving chairs around in living room and finally start mopping. Several more distractions later, finally finish mopping floor. Decide to forget about cleaning entryway. Will do it 'later.' Now, it's 12:30. Kids are sitting at top of basement stairs, begging for food and water. Tell them to wait 10 more minutes, and run through mental checklist of lunch ideas: kraft dinner? none left. shoot. sandwich's? no meat, or cheese. shoot again. check pantry: can of tomato soup. Bingo! Tomato soup and grilled cheese it is! Except only have cheese slices...will have to do today. Whip up lunch and get kids settled.
Cait is now stirring, wanting to eat again really soon. Thankfully, my sister holds her while I inhale my lunch, and then I feed my baby once again. I then decide to try to find the humor in my morning, and leave a message for my friend Sarah, 'bragging' about all that I got accomplished...and it only took 4 hours!!
All that to say, the rest of the day was a wash--my son's fever (3rd day) spiked up again after lunch, I gave up my goal of cleaning the basement, and spent the rest of the afternoon with my girls, feeding,burping,and rocking one, while watching the other do dance after dance...all the while fighting 'guilt-driven' thoughts: I didn't accomplish my goals--what a lousy wife/homemaker, I ignored my kids all morning--what a lousy mom. Stupid thoughts, I know. Untrue. I know.
But, still thoughts to work through...and struggle with, on this journey they call motherhood.
