Thursday, July 20, 2006
My name is Amy, and I am a reformed "anal retentive freak." Yep, I admit it. Before we had kids Shawn and I almost prided ourselves on how anal retentive, neat, and tidy we were. Everything in our home had a place. Dust didn't linger for longer than an hour on most surfaces. Our fridge looked like it was a showroom model. My clothing was unstained and ironed. Meals were served in our immaculate dining room, on good dishes, and food remained on said dishes - not on the floor. For Heaven's sake, we had a rug on our dining room floor! Fastforward 2 years. My how a toddler changes everything! Before Jackson could walk, and when I was still working, we maintained our sense of anality. Ask anyone, we were a little bit over the top. But ever since he learned to walk/talk/run/destruct, all bets are off. I'm reformed! I have to be, I have no choice. I forget to dust surfaces for weeks, sometimes months at a time. There is a layer on my blinds that likely I'll never attempt to remove. The tile floor has specks of food, drink, drool and playdough ground into the grout. Lovely. Every single shirt I own is stained. We traded in our cherry wood dining set for a farmhouse table that Jackson can bang "The Star Spangled Banner" on with a fork and I don't care. My fridge is a science experiment. Bug stickers are regularly attached to my shoes, butt, forearm -- and not on purpose. Our artwork has been replaced with crayola colorings of "The Little Einsteins." And you know what, I love it! At times I have to restrain myself from vacuuming after every meal (and sometimes I still do), but otherwise I have let it go. I have other things to fret over. I have towers to build with legos, and wooden trains arriving at Sodar station any minute now. I have cheese, apples, and turkey dogs to cut up. Milk to pour. Laundry to fold - even if it is stained. But most importantly I have a two year old (and a baby-to-be) to smother with love and attention and games and hugs. So that is where the priorities have shifted. And it feels pretty freeing to be able to run a finger along the dusty shelf and laugh it off without running for the Swiffer.
Posted by Crib Tales at 1:37 PM