Some Dirty Kids OR Domestic Bliss

Those of you who know me know that I am NO Domestic Diva.  I hate to cook, my house is always at least semi-messy and I have more laundry to do than the Brady Bunch. Although I enjoy the feel and smell of fresh clean sheets, the way pressed pants look on a hanger- and then on me- and how nice the floors look all swept and mopped, I take no joy in making these things happen.  I wish that I did, but I just don't.  When I should be cleaning, I would rather be reading a book, watching my new favorite show, Nashville, playing with my kids, napping, hanging with friends....well, I would just about rather be doing anything but domestic chores.

When I was little, I had chores that were mine to do- clean my room, clean the bathroom weekly, and clean the kitchen on the nights I was told to. But even as a child, I did these things very begrudgingly.  Since this has been my feeling for most of my life, I have come to one conclusion about myself- I am missing the domestic gene.  I  just don't have it.  Or maybe I should say that I only have PART of it.  You see, I like to make dinner on occasion, but I hate to do the dishes.  I love to wash and dry clothes, but I hate to fold them and put them away.  Any domestic chore that has two sides to it, you can bet I like or love one and hate the other.  Because of this, I struggle on a pretty constant basis to keep my family neat, orderly and in ship shape.



I recently told someone that I didn't really like "domestic bliss"- all those wifey, womanly things we women are supposed to do in order to create a happy, healthy home.  I got to thinking about it later, though, and I realized, I may not like traditional domestic bliss, but I sure do like MY version!

You see, in my version of bliss, my kids and I paint ourselves with paint, just because it is fun.  We play in water outside when it's too cold because we want to see how fast the water runs down the driveway.  I skip doing laundry so I can have popcorn and watch a movie with my kids or go to downtown Charleston or the beach and enjoy a beautiful day.  I might not do the dishes so we can go to the pool, play with friends, hang out with Nana, or just curl up in the bed together and read books.  I skip finding recipes on Pinterest and order in our favorite pizza.

Now, I know all of these things don't set me up as Domestic Diva of the Year or as June Cleaver, and my children are probably learning better housekeeping skills from their father than me, but I don't really care.  You see, I am creating the life that I want for my kids and myself.  We are creating a life full of love, laughter, memories, and yes, a few dirty dishes.  But hopefully, when my children look back on their childhood, they won't remember that the house was a little messy or that Mom didn't cook.  Hopefully they will remember all of the fun we had together and all of the love we have shared.  Because, in the end, I would rather them remember a wonderful afternoon making a giant mud puddle, than a Sunday afternoon cleaning their rooms.