For the past (few) year(s), you would hear me say some of the following (and sometimes multiple times a day):
"My kids don't listen."
"My kids don't do anything."
"Look at how I sacrifice!"
That's what I did. I complained... and I complained a lot. Bless ChipBeef (fka The Chef) and My Sister From Another Mother (forever now known as MSFAM). They put up with me... and they did it with smiles on their faces. It's nothing more than a gigantic pitty party for one.
I'm 36 years old and I don't really like me. I am nothing more than a whiny, hot mess of a woman that is afraid of tomorrow. If I know what's going to happen, I can be prepared for it. I do nothing but hide in the comfort of negativity. If something went wrong, I knew it was going to happen. If it went right, it was just a matter of time before it all would go sideways again.
Then something happened.
Yesterday, Butter and Pineapple had gotten under my skin and I decided to deep clean my bed and bath rooms. As I looked around, I noticed the handprints on the wall, the dirt that had collected in the corners, and the dust that covered the top of my dresser. A veil that I hadn't even realized was clouding my vision lifted. The condition of my rooms was entirely all my fault... and I never saw it. With sudden clarity, I truly understood that I had absolute control over this.
We live in a house that is almost too small for us... and we all just have a lot of stuff. That being said, when one or two things are out of place, it turns into a disaster. I did nothing to maintain it because I knew in a matter of minutes, it would be back to the same mess that I had just picked up... so I just didn't. Two things would turn into five, five things would turn into 10... you get the idea.
Then the following three things would happen in this order:
1) The house would stay in a constant state of disarray,
2) I'd fuss after The Babes to pick up with my only direction being "Now",
3) I'd finally have enough, clean a room and then get discouraged when less than 24 hours later it was a disaster again.
It is nothing more than a horrendous circle... a circle that breaks today.
The Babes are only children, and they do things as children their age will do. They will occationally forget to put a trash bag in the can when they take the trash out. Sometimes, they will forget to take something upstairs when I asked them too. It's to be expected. I forgot that... or should I say I didn't see it.
Don't misunderstand me, I am not my family's maid. The Babes will continue with chores... but this time with more direction from me. Instead of saying, "kitchen", they will be able to choose what they do, the only exception is their rooms. They can run a vacuum, and sweep a floor, but I will be the one on my hands and knees scrubbing the corners.
I can also control the sess pool that my vocabulary has become. See, I swear... and I swear A LOT. My boys have also started to cuss... and I'm not talking about the occasional "damnit". Let me lay it down like this, if I swore in front of my mom the way the boys swear in front of me, I'd have dentures because she would have knocked all of my teeth down my throat. I do get after them about it, but it's still bad. It wasn't that they said anything particular lately, but it needs to stop. If they stop hearing it, they will stop saying it. There is also the fact that when ChipBeef and I first started dating, I didn't really cuss. He said it was one of the things that he first loved about me (and he has brought it up once or twice in the last 12 years) that it made me more of a lady. I like that. I don't have to swear like a sailor on leave in general everyday conversation. I am the only one who can control that... and I'm making a very conscious effort.
I know it's two very simple things, and as rediculous as it sounds I cant help but take extreme comfort In the notion that there are at least two things in this crazy world that I have complete control over. I feel better today than I have in a very long time. I'm practically giddy.