Yesterday, as I reclined during my spa morning, I had a lot on my mind.
(Dental work’s price tag makes it as close to an actual spa as I’m getting, but if I’m forced to lie here with my eyes closed, I am thrilled and will continue to refer to it as a spa.)
I thought of my sweet babies at home, which inevitably led to me thinking how much cleaning I need to do, the ever growing pile of laundry, and the missing Desitin tube. That missing Desitin concerns me. It also made circle back to cleaning the house.
My feelings these messy days are always sandwiched. I do like food analogies.
Those little bits of frustration are sandwiched between feelings of overwhelming adoration and motherly wonder. Like a real life filter, the pure innocence of the little perpetrators always blurs the irritation of the crime out of focus.
Let me give you a tour of my emotions (the sandwiches, which I am envisioning as PB& homemade raspberry jelly).
Emotional sandwiches. Or, bipolar. Hard to differentiate.
These small annoyances have become the crowning jewels of my home.
My house verges on disastrous sometimes, but I know having clean pants and floors one day will prick my heart.