This is the scene of my kitchen yesterday about 2:00 pm. The counters were cleaned. The pizza dough was rising. Pioneer Woman's cookbook was anxiously awaiting the next step.
But this is not all.
My laundry room? Completely devoid of laundry. Because it had all been washed, folded, and put away.
My bed was made.
Every pillow in the living room was in place.
My clothes were all hung in my closet.
Parker's bed was freshly made with extra blankets for the coming cold spell.
After the kids came home the girls sat around the kitchen table reading, doing crafts, and snacking. Parker sat up to the island with a book and a bowl of popcorn. At 5:00 on the dot I began cooking the bacon and sauteeing the leeks for dinner. At 6:00 on the dot I pulled a potato-leek pizza AND a basil-tomato pizza out of the oven.
Jordan said it was the best meal she'd had in a long time.
While the girls were at church I washed the dishes. I scrubbed the pizza pans extra carefully, dried them, and put them away. When I turned out the lights on the kitchen everything was in its appropriate place.
This phenomenon (the clean/orderly part) is an unusual one that consistently descends on our home mid-January. There is usually a two week gap between when the kids go back to school and when A&M starts back up. So, I find myself with unusual amounts of time. And with this time, apparently, I clean and cook and play Betty Homemaker.
And each year at this time I ask myself, "Is this what my family really wants? Is this better?"
And here's what I've learned after hours of contemplating my family's existence.
Overall, this surreal homemaking existence is not necessarily in the best interest of my family.
It certainly isn't in MY best interest. And this is not to say that I don't enjoy playing Martha from time to time. Of course I like it. I like the clean and the cozy and sauteed leeks with goat cheese. But not everyday. Not continually. Because after about a week and a half I start to slowly lose it. Cleaning and cooking and cleaning and cooking (with no diversion) drives me slowly insane.
It's not in my kids' best interest either. They start taking for granted the amount of hard work and planning it takes to make this family work. When their clothes magically appear in their dressers and closets, when a steaming meal appears before them at the dinner table, when they need give no thought to anyone other than themselves...they become, well, selfish and entitled.
And, quite frankly, I think it's better for Sterling when he has to chip in...drive the kids to piano occasionally, or pick up a pizza, or remember to get Parker's tae kwon do stuff together.
And for any of you out there who can maintain a seamless domestic existence, my hat is off to you. (Would you come live with me?) I guess I just prefer my home life a little more fly-by-night. I want the clean and organized, but I also want to feel that we are all pulling together and working together. And certainly, were I a bit smarter I could formulate a plan that included jobs for everyone and instilled discipline and respect regardless of my personal pursuits. But there is something to be said for lived experience -- for a visual reminder that Momma is a person too -- that she has interests, and projects, and deadlines all her own. And that homemade pizzas don't come flying out of the oven on their own. Not that the Jetsons don't make that look appealing.
