Lifelines

On Monday, Charlie called me and asked if I’d mind if his sister and her two kids came to stay with us for a long weekend visit. She had been spending the Thanksgiving holiday up in Baltimore and felt like swinging down to Columbus for a few days.

My initial reaction was, “Of course!” as I adore Angie and her two boys immensely.
But my second reaction was “But how will I get this place ready for guests feeling the way I do?”
I can barely get my daily stuff done, much less try and whip this place into Guest Shape.
And, quite frankly, I don’t feel like pushing myself on account of ANYONE right now–not even Santy Claus.
I’m just floundering, trying hard to maintain.
The house looks eerily the same as it did when I posted pictures of it the other day.
The sink is full of crusty dishes.
The laundry still sits by the fireplace, though the basket count is down to one as opposed to three.

I let this sudden visit information twirl around in my head for a little while and before I knew it, I was grousing and stressing.
Not over the GUESTS, but over the preparation FOR the guests.

She was supposed to arrive yesterday but didn’t due to stormy weather in between our states.
So she’s currently Columbus-bound, barreling hard in this direction even as I write.
And here I sit BLOGGING.

Want to know why?

Because this is what I want to do right now.
I decided yesterday that I had two choices: I could either spend my entire Thursday cleaning and barking orders at my kids all day long “Pick this up! Don’t get that out! STOP MAKING MESSES!” or…I could just let it all go.

When I sat back and thought about it, what does a guest really need anyway?
Clean sheets and a clean bathroom to use is what I decided.
And so, that’s exactly what has been (almost) provided.

Everything else, this facade of a perfectly clean and tidy home, is my OWN expectations getting the better of me.
If I spend all day cleaning so that it gleams when she walks in the door with her two small boys, what difference will it make?
None, is what I decided.
The last time I checked, a three and one year old aren’t terribly concerned with ANYTHING but how quickly they can undo all of the playroom organization anyway.
And will she care if there are papers piled and stacks of laundry to fold?
I doubt she’ll even notice, honestly.
(I never do, unless it’s B-A-D.)

But so what if she does?

This is a home FULLY lived in all day long and it reflects that during the course of a day.
I pick it up constantly but I’m just suddenly unconcerned with how it looks the minute she walks in the door.
I have NO desire to snap at my kids and to place unrealistic expectations on them just so there’s not a toy in sight when we first welcome them inside.

And I also know that she really doesn’t care.
She’s not placing any expectations on me, she just wants to come visit.
So, I stopped compiling mental lists of Houseguest Grit and I immediately stopped stressing.
I’ve spent the day schooling the kids and largely…relaxing.
There’s oodles to be done.

And I really don’t care.

It would seem that this pregnancy has sort of given me permission to just cut myself some slack and I really quite like it.
Instead of rushing around trying to get everything done, I’ve been able to just look forward to their arrival.
I’d be delusional to think that any work I put into it right now would make a darn bit of difference anyway by bedtime.
With two extra Under 4s, this place will be trashed from sun up to sun down until they leave so…I’m just going with it.

But it does make me wonder….why do we feel such a need to pretend we live in these spotless homes for our family and friends? It’s very strange to me when I really think about it. We don’t have many houseguests as most of our family lives near us but our friends the Harmons come to visit once or twice a year and I DO usually clean like crazy before they arrive. (Though they are coming for New Years Eve and I’m afraid there will be the New Me in charge–clean sheets and potties, that’s it!) It’s just sort of misleading or something.

Or do I have it all wrong and is this an issue of respect towards company? I suppose I can see it a bit that way too–no one wants to come to visit inside a tornado.

Either way, I’m done and I’ve made my peace with it.
I don’t mean to say there’s peanut butter smeared over the counter tops and the downstairs toilet is flooded.
But there IS currently a 55 piece teaset spread all over the Wall of Desk along with 13 babies who are enjoying their afternoon snack.
And if you walked through this playroom right now, you’d probably break your neck on one of the 15 “bbbbrooms” that Creux has left scattered all around.

Maybe it’ll all be put away before she arrives…then again, maybe it won’t.
I’m shrugging my shoulders in indifference on the matter which, you should know, is NOT normal for me.
I. Like. Tidy.
But it’s easier on me and on my kids to just…drop the pretenses.
My house is clean but messy from the hours of 8am until 9pm and that’s just the way it is.
We have firm nightly rules–everything goes back to its proper place before bedtime and if there’s a horrific mess, we tidy just to keep up on it, but life’s too short to yowl about toys being out and strung around the house.
Their play is their work, right :)

Am off to…watch tv or something.
Maybe read a book.
Ooooo, or maybe make a fire and curl up on the couch and nap.
(Yes! Yes, pick THAT one!)

I’m kind of liking this mindset.
It’s…freeing.
And I’m looking forward to a weekend full of laughter and love and absolutely CRAZY messes…

4 Responses to “An Unexpected Houseguest (Or Three)”

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