Care less. Not careless as in: inattentive or ass-holey. The kind that focuses my energy, my time and my highly sought-fter serenity towards the things that matter. And the only ‘things’ that matter really are people. For this stay at home mama, it’s little people with poor hygiene and a knack for upsetting old people in the grocery store. (there is just so much fun to be had in the toilet paper aisle, its a gas!) And these are my people. I am walking around barely, the floor is that sticky, picking up dirty socks, tossing lids into a drawer, and scrambling to find some meaning to my existence. My senses have been assaulted for the last 8+hours by complaints demands and the stench of whatever that was my middle child produced, an extremely rare form of nasty. And I think to myself sometimes, Really? This is the job you want? Sure, I love to write and I make a mean macchiato yet this is it. This is the thing I do best at. Even when I feel less than amazing at mothering the truth is I’m doing a damn good job. Housekeeper, eh. Not so great. Craft master, D-. But museum loving, ice cream for lunch sing songs at the park? I got that shit on lock. Its true. I have amazing kids and I am apart of that wether I like it or not. I get to care less…. about the filth and the piles of dishes and clothes. Care less about what other people (may or may not) think about me and my life. I get to give up on perfection and settle into this one crazy beautiful life my Higher Power gave me. It includes squished oatmeal in my rug. It includes knowing three little darling boys; Otto Liam, Hobbs Atly and Hugo Noel. Knowing someone is not just seeing them on a daily business. Knowing someone is to look at them and realize their is a need, and that you can meet it. Knowing someone is to sluff off the crap they say like, “Mom, a cat scratched your booty.” They’re called stretch marks, thank you very much! I know what I’m good at, sort of. Let go and let others be good at stuff too. God Bless Eric for being a great keeper of the house. We’d eat out of our hands if it were up to me to do the dishes 365.
Pick and choose what is important to YOU. And then do that. I wish you could see my house right now- but honestly it probably doesn’t look much different from yours. We’re strangely more common than I once believed. You’re probably like me. Clumsy. Happy and a little annoyed with equal parts of over-joyed and underwhelmed.
I can hear Hobbs, ‘yah yah yah-ing…’ naps are over and so is this post. xo