I walked into my living room yesterday and saw. Really saw. Through the fog of pregnancy, reduced sleep with a newborn, and all that comes with it, I’d rather grown accustomed to a new normal. Laundry, feeding my family, grocery shopping… I’d kept up with all of that. But my house was maintaining at a disgusting level of dust and cobwebs. I set to work. One dear daughter had the single responsibility of rinsing out my wet rag every thirty seconds. You know the dust is bad when it requires water to remove.
Hours later, my living room and school room look the same… but clean. Hallelujah. Last night, I asked my husband a serious question.
“Next time the house is that dirty, that dusty, could you please mention it? When I’m not mad at you? When I’m not in a bad mood?”
He stared at me.
Smart man. I was serious… but I do imagine that conversation could land him in trouble.