Click here for shortcuts to regional language blogs and city-specific events.
Ever since my son started crawling, I never got my house clean and managed. Things are scattered, toys are everywhere, spots of daal can be seen at floor and bed sheet is always crimpled. I used to feel bad about it because I thought guests who visit us would judge me based on cleanliness of my house. I didn't want to be called a lazy mother. Whenever I visited any of the family friends and found their homes spotless, I always praised the lady of the house and cursed myself in being unable to keep my home tidy. I'm positive they cleaned their houses for me, I could see it. So I could think to myself, "Her house is cleaner than mine, she's perfect." I had delved myself into the pressure of trying to put things back in it's please every other minute. Keeping the house clean is the toughest work when kids start crawling and moving. You agree? I used to hide things if I came to know about any one coming to my place. And I used to get frustrated and baffled. Being a working mother, I tried my best to be a good home maker as well.But I failed many times and I misbehaved with my husband because of this. Having a active kid is a blessing but you need to have a good HB level to run behind him/her all the time.
But now I get it. I realized the mistake that I was doing with pressurizing myself. I was showing off. I was trying to give other people an impression that everything is under my control here. I was wrong. I was rude and I don't do it now.I no longer clean up before other moms come and I don't apologize for the mess. That means leaving the dishes in the sink, leaving my son's pajamas on the bed, and leaving the toys scattered. Having a home with a super active toddler is nothing to be ashamed of and yet I was constantly trying to hide the evidences.
I discussed my feeling about this cleaning issue with some of my fellow mothers and we all have same thinking. Seeing a clean house where young kids live is serious stress for other ladies, especially if they are mothers. This pretend play is actually giving mothers hard time. But I have a different philosophy now. I can sit happily in a messy room when I visit any of my friends and I feel so homely. The same thing I expect from others. I don't want to show them that I have super natural powers which can help me in cleaning, dusting, brooming and mopping all the time. I now do things as my body allows. After reaching home(from office), I take some rest first. I used to start putting toys back to their place but now I no longer do that. All cleaning stuff I do once in day and l let my tot play as he wishes to play. I still run behind him with eatables in my hands. Sometimes he spits or vomits. At times, he tries to take the spoon and bowl in his hand and do a messy eating. But everything is allowed at my place. I don't want to make my house a museum where everything is always organized. I don't change the bed sheet (until it is really needed) before guests are coming because I am not pretending to be something that I'm not. I'm not saying I'm giving up trying to keep a clean home. I do it everyday but I don't stress myself now. It's okay if outsiders know the real situation of my home. I want to give most of my time to my son. Spending time and energy in trying to make home look perfect doesn't seem reasonable to me. I let every one do things as they wish.
We are normal people, our kids can play dirty games. They can scatter toys and food items, diapers can peep from dustbin and floor can have stains and spots. You know, someday we'll miss the mess. I bet someday we'll be wrinkled and old and we'll finally have all those tall imported curtains and delicate decor items. Someday everything will be in its place. When that day comes I bet we won't clean up after grand-kids in hopes of showing off the mess to our old friends. So that we can say things like, "Yes, the grandchildren came over and look at this mess!"
Someday we will long for the mess. It will be quiet and we'll wonder why we ever tried to hide the fact that we were raising kids.