Confessions...

My name is Natilie and I don't make my bed.  I know, I know, a collective gasp has just been heard through the far reaches of the universe, especially from the over 32 set.  I need to get this off my chest and what better place to do it than my online journal (of sorts).  I don't make my bed.  I also don't make my husband breakfast (some of you may need to sit for this), I don't clean my bathrooms once a week, and I'm pretty sure my fridge has something growing in it.  I don't usually dust unless someone is coming over, and (gulp) I let the laundry stack up until it falls over.  My vehicle has garbage on the floor, my sink has toothpaste in it, and I let my dishes drip dry (because I still don't have a new dishwasher).  I actually got my fifth grader out of bed tonight to vacuum the floor, because that is what kids are supposed to do.  Isn't that why we have them?  J/K - about the reason, not the vacuuming.  Some of you may wonder why I would expose myself so nakedly like this (figuratively, not literally) but admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, or at least that is what they tell you at AA meetings (not that I have ever been, I've just heard that is what they tell you).  Just so we are clear, I don't see the bed making as a problem.  Why would I make it if I am just going to mess it up again?  This argument has baffled me since my youth.  I think it is a reasonable point.  This also could work for most other household chores.  Why mow?  It just grows back.  Laundry - it just gets dirty again.   There are a million things that we do throughout the day that at the end of it we have no proof that they ever got accomplished.  We do them because we have to, and because we are supposed to be teaching our children what is acceptable, and because a clean house is really, really nice.  So after all of my ranting what I have realized is this: BEING A STAY AT HOME MOM IS A SACRIFICE.   It is a blessing to have the opportunity to raise your kids and see all the amazing things they accomplish as they grow and progress.  I get a kick out of the things that they say and do, and I delight in all of their accomplishments.  I love that I can stay home with them.  That being said, I think the rest blows.  That's right, I said it.  I think it stinks.  In all my dreaming as a little girl I never once thought "When I grow up I want to fold several batches of laundry a day, and sweep the floor repeatedly, and fret every time someone comes over that they might think I am a slob and don't do anything, even though my kids have driven me to the brink of insanity at various times throughout the day."  Nope, I never once dreamed that dream.  I did, however, dream that I would have a happy, well adjusted family that worked and played together and loved each other immensely.  So, in trade for that I will endure the rest.  I did not say I would endure it well, I just said I would endure it.  I will do the things necessary to help my family be comfortable, look clean and nice, and create a home where the Spirit can dwell.  And so I do it for my family, and admittedly, for myself, because I do love a clean house. And I will admit that as the kids get older it is getting easier, though we are nowhere near the ideal.  To me there is nothing nicer than a clean floor after a long day, or the sight of someone else doing it.  And for those of you who might like to chance a visit, I keep the visible areas pretty clean, if it is only just a show.  You'll notice I will never show you the state of my bedroom, that might be too horrifying to witness and you just might think "What does she do all day, I mean, it's not like she works or anything?"  (Disclaimer:  It's really not that bad, I do dust occasionally.  I was exaggerating a little.  Or was I?).