I think it would be easier for me to let go if my mom and I hadn't had a few 'discussions' about everything from the state of my carpets to my son's wrinkled shorts. We're having one of those mother daughter moments where advice is really criticism in disguise. I've had to defend the choices I've made (or not made).
She doesn't understand why I can't "do it all" while one of the first things she did after my brother moved out a few years ago was hire a someone to clean twice a month. Things got heated. The phrase 'cleanliness is next to Godliness' was used. I realized I was on the verge of saying things I would end up regretting only after the satisfaction of getting the last word wore off.
Here's the thing: no, you can't eat off my floors but why would you want to? I have a perfectly good (and clean) kitchen table. My carpets are embarrassing, but the couch is clean. Sure, you'll have to move a pile of laundry to sit down but at least it's clean and folded. No one who comes into my home is afraid to sit down or eat anything I've made.
When I look back on my childhood and tell stories, I don't say, "man, my mom sure kept a super clean house." Instead, I talk about the green cookie jar that was always full of homemade cookies, us going shopping, her taking me to the library and buying me Sweet Valley High books, taking me to our local indoor pool and to the skating rink.
I don't think about our house or the laundry, I think about my mom herself. And that's what I want for Tyler. I want him to remember getting excited when I made his favorite meals for dinner and that I was at almost all of his practices and games. I also want Tyler to see me doing things that make me happy.
Am I happy that my house is a mess? No. It drives me absolutely crazy. But I decided awhile ago that I'm not a maid. I've already tried spending two hours a day making sure the house is exactly the way I like it (basically, perfect) and I've also tried screaming at my family to get them to help out more. Both ways left all of us miserable. I was resentful that I spent so much time cleaning for two people who could obviously care less and they got tired of me nagging.
The way I left it with my mom was to tell her that I don't have to do things the same way she did. We don't have to be the same kind of mom. She's a great mom and I like to think I'm doing a pretty good job myself. But, that doesn't mean I have to follow in her exact footsteps. And it definitely doesn't mean I should feel guilty for doing what works for us. Things may be crazy, busy and messy but we're having fun. At the end of the day, that's really all that matters.
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