The clutter and chaos can weary a mama by mid-morning. My visions of domestic tranquility are often tainted by airbrushed Better Homes and Gardens vignettes and books I've read about how to implement a more organized homeschooling schedule.
I've tried methods for a better home and better schedule but none of it seems to stick. In fact, the only thing that seems to stick is my bare foot to the juice-christened floor.
Real life is messy and real houses are too.
But sometimes grace-filled, Grace-given perspective washes over me and I see it all differently.
Piles of laundry reminding me to give thanks for well-worn days of play and dirt and sweat and spills...
And that I chose to spend my time writing and reading and cooking and teaching and sitting with my neighbor girlfriends in the driveway instead of getting the wash done and put away.
Everywhere I look, I can see clutter or I can see creativity.
Beds made out of decorative Kleenex and jewelry boxes for Playmobil people and their pets...
Cushions she fashioned out of my scarves for her stuffed animals...
Laundry baskets filled with stuffed animals rather than stacks of neatly-folded shirts...
Lego ships and escape pods as far as the eye can see...
I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want to climb inside one of the pods on any given day to be whisked away to Better Homes and Gardens.
But I don't think I'd last long in the land of perfect.
I'd miss this little guy wearing a mouse-eared crown and yogurt smeared across his face.
And this sweet girl studying in the light of the sun.
And this poor, feverish boy who can do nothing but sleep and watch movies.
Because one day my house will be quiet and magazine-ish. There will be fewer spills and fewer fevers and I won't curse as I step on a Lego in the middle of the night.
And when that day comes, I think I'll be homesick for the home I live in right now.