I want to sleep.
Sometimes, I want to sleep so badly, I can do nothing but stand with my eyes closed and imagine falling asleep right where I am.
Often, I am in the produce section, picking up apples, searching for ones without bruises. Or, staring at an endless shelf of clothes detergent at Target – trying to calculate the best price based on cost compared to volume. But, I suck at math and end up getting the same one every single time.
I work. I have kids. We have a house. I am blessed and surrounded by many good things, but there is always shit to do.
Right now, there is a clothes basket with folded kids clothes on the living room floor, just outside the hallway leading to the kids’ bedrooms. It has been there since Sunday night. It’s Wednesday. During the day, you can see a fine layer of dust when the sunlight from our dining room windows hits the black surface of our dining room table. I keep thinking I’m going to run a dry rag with some pledge over it, but then I remember something else that’s more important than dusting. And then I forget – because in my world, everything is more important than dusting.
There’s a stack of papers on our entertainment center, completed homework pulled, by me, from my son’s red kindergarten folder. I shuffled through the papers to make sure there was nothing that needed to be signed, and then set the papers down because I was on my way to my his room which is in the opposite direction of the recycling bin. I failed to take any of his folded clothes with me on my way.
Do you want me to go on? I could. I’m only listing the things that I can see from where I’m sitting on the couch. I could go on for days if I stood up and turned to face my kitchen counters.
I do not strive to be a super mom. It’s counter productive to my health and happiness. If given a choice, I will nap over most any other activity.
My house does get cleaned, although, most of the time it’s when I’m expecting people who don’t live here.
And when it’s 10:30 at night, and all I want to do is close my eyes, I have no problem sleeping – even when there are clothes that need to be put away, dust covering the dining room table and days-old homework littering the entertainment center.
My grandfather used to say, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
I, on the other hand, would much rather sleep now.
Amy Gesenhues 
I have to admit, that picture gave me palpitations. Truth: I’m the half-assiest house-cleaner in the world. I keep three rooms spotless, but the rest of the house, not so much.
The motherhood-workerbee-wife-bill-payer combo is ruthless, isn’t it?
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Three rooms are my limit (and one of those includes a 1/2 bath as big as a closet). It is ruthless – and how many more identifiers could we add to that string? taxi-driver, dinner-preparer, event-planner…
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The picture got my heart going, too. If there’s any place worse than Target, Costco, Walmart, etc…. with their endless packed aisles of bulk and color and far too many choices. Confession: I will use clean dishes out of the dishwasher, put them right back in, and run the whole wash system again before I would ever consider actually putting all of dishes away.
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I remember all too well and with each passing day of what appears to be the new normal around here, it’s becoming too much my reality again. I am compulsive about order with cleanliness coming in a close second. So what do I do? I plan a garden. Because, obviously, in my head there isn’t enough have to already cluttering my waking hours.
Sweet dreams, chick.
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Last year, my husband did two container gardens and asked me before he started if I wanted to help. I told him I would help eat whatever he grew but that was about all I could commit to at the moment.
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