The week before Christmas, I’m ashamed to say our house was an absolute mess. Between my husband and I both working nonstop, running kids around and helping Mom transition to a new living …
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The week before Christmas, I’m ashamed to say our house was an absolute mess. Between my husband and I both working nonstop, running kids around and helping Mom transition to a new living situation, the time for cleaning was nil. Kids are also slobs, so that didn’t help things any. For a time, we just gave up and lived in clutter and did the bare minimum to keep it livable.
However, by Christmas break, I couldn’t take it anymore. Part of “vacation” was spent scouring the house, sorting through kids’ closets, rearranging bedrooms, purging, donating old toys and clothes and washing load after load after load of bedding and laundry. It felt amazing, but boy, was it a lot of work.
As we drove home from a family gathering on New Year’s Day, my husband and I talked about how nice it would be if the house actually stayed clean. Living with children makes that next to impossible, no matter how much nagging you do, rules you implement or chores you torture them with. It gets old. A never-ending battle I’m frankly sick of fighting. So I’m plotting my revenge. It may be in the future, but I am sure looking forward to it.
When our children have their own homes, when we visit my husband and I will:
I’m sure I can think of more before it’s our turn to turn the tables. When the kids are getting the best of me, I will think of my list. And I’ll smile. Someday, they’ll get it.