One of the greatest bits of mommy advice I have ever received came from my dear friend Daisy (www.oncetwicethreetimesamommy.blogspot.com).
We had gotten our families together despite the two state gap. This was pre-Ladybug but it still meant the kids outnumbered the grown-ups, five to four. It was a great visit; I love being in Daisy's home. We had plans for a family they knew from college to bring their kids and come join the craziness for dinner that night. Just one little hiccup, one of Daisy's kiddos got sick.
While Daisy hauled her little Peach into the urgent care, I set to entertaining the remaining four kids and the dads, well, they worked together at watching the smoker make our dinner. Boys will be boys.
The hours ticked by and finally Daisy called with an update. It was something minor, just needed to pickup a script and dinner could go on as planned. This was great news! But as I looked around I realized the children and I had managed a lot of mayhem and basically destroyed Daisy's house. Now there were guests due in less than an hour and a meal to prepare. I panicked.
As Daisy's breezed through the door I spouted out my apologies and tried to make a plan of attack to whip her house back into shape while she put together the rest of dinner. Her response left me dumb-struck. She told me, "It's okay, Mr. and Mrs. College Friends know I have kids."
What?! You mean these people who like you for who you are and have kids themselves can completely understand a messy house and not judge you on it? Well, when you put it that way it seems pretty obvious.
As we drove back across two states the next day I had about nine hours to think about what Daisy had said. It was a casual comment; she hadn't meant it to be some prolific moment in my life. But it was. I ran it over and over in my head and came to some profound conclusions.
1. My house needed to be for my family, not potential guests. We lived there and it should be set up to meet our needs instead of arranged to impress some mysterious people who may stop in.
2. If these people who may stop in really care that much more about my house than my family perhaps they need to re-evaluate their priorities, instead me changing mine.
3. The people whose opinions I truly care about love me and my entire family. They would rather be in our joyful, crazy home than a barely lived in house.
I came home from that drive and looked around my house. There were no baskets of toys in the family room (come on, the "family" room?) and the fridge was covered in cute magnets holding reminders to keep my life straight but no priceless artwork.
That very night, despite being road-weary, I moved the toys to new homes out in the open. I took my clippings, recipes and reminders off the fridge and replaced them with The Munchkin's latest art projects that had been set to be added to her keepsake box.
Now my house shows exactly who lives here: a happy, active, sometime wild family. There are finger paintings taped to the wall (who cares if the tape may mark the wall); there are trikes and Little Tykes cars parked next to the couch; there is a strange odor of chicken nuggets and Pine-Sol. But this isn't just our house it's our home. And as Daisy so graciously taught me, people know I have kids. Thank you, Daisy!!
(She is definitely one of my wingmoms!)
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