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I think I might be coming out of the newborn haze and I know it by this: My dirty house is starting to bother me. Finally! my husband might add.
You see, I allow myself a good amount of time to not worry about cleaning. In between my pregnancies with G and Little Missy I read a column by a man whose wife had had seven children, and he said that after each baby is born the mom is allowed to sit in her rocking chair with pajamas on for two weeks while everyone else takes care of the house.
I thought Yes! Totally! And then I promptly forgave myself for not being able to keep the house clean when G was a newborn because, seriously, between two-hour feedings and naps and staring at a beautiful baby, I felt I’d accomplished something when I brushed my teeth before Hubby got home from work. After reading that column I also vowed to not worry about my house after any more babies came along. And I haven’t. Such a release.
But after three weeks it started to bother me. I know this by the panic that set in the other day, the awareness of STUFF slowly crowding in on me, and Hubby realized it when he came home to me in a bad mood and I tersely suggested he get the kids out of the house so that I could clean/get rid of their toys. Not a good way to handle the situation.
Sometimes my husband deserves a medal for putting up with me. He took the big kids and I threw away two garbage bags of McDonald’s toys and broken pieces and toys that were in excellent condition but SO HELP ME I could not look at them for another minute.
And I felt better.
Hubby, G and Little Missy came home while some friends from my Sunday School were loving on Baby Chickadee after dropping off dinner (I am surrounded by such great people!) when Little Missy casually pointed to the newly clean-ish dining room, the place where most of their toys reside, and I brushed it off with “Yeah, I cleaned it up.”
TWO GARBAGE BAGS, people, and Little Missy barely noticed stuff gone missing and G hasn’t noticed at all. They might have too many toys.
I’m noticing a cleaner dining room, and it makes me happy. Now on to the laundry.
I think I might be coming out of the newborn haze and I know it by this: My dirty house is starting to bother me. Finally! my husband might add.
You see, I allow myself a good amount of time to not worry about cleaning. In between my pregnancies with G and Little Missy I read a column by a man whose wife had had seven children, and he said that after each baby is born the mom is allowed to sit in her rocking chair with pajamas on for two weeks while everyone else takes care of the house.
I thought Yes! Totally! And then I promptly forgave myself for not being able to keep the house clean when G was a newborn because, seriously, between two-hour feedings and naps and staring at a beautiful baby, I felt I’d accomplished something when I brushed my teeth before Hubby got home from work. After reading that column I also vowed to not worry about my house after any more babies came along. And I haven’t. Such a release.
But after three weeks it started to bother me. I know this by the panic that set in the other day, the awareness of STUFF slowly crowding in on me, and Hubby realized it when he came home to me in a bad mood and I tersely suggested he get the kids out of the house so that I could clean/get rid of their toys. Not a good way to handle the situation.
Sometimes my husband deserves a medal for putting up with me. He took the big kids and I threw away two garbage bags of McDonald’s toys and broken pieces and toys that were in excellent condition but SO HELP ME I could not look at them for another minute.
And I felt better.
Hubby, G and Little Missy came home while some friends from my Sunday School were loving on Baby Chickadee after dropping off dinner (I am surrounded by such great people!) when Little Missy casually pointed to the newly clean-ish dining room, the place where most of their toys reside, and I brushed it off with “Yeah, I cleaned it up.”
TWO GARBAGE BAGS, people, and Little Missy barely noticed stuff gone missing and G hasn’t noticed at all. They might have too many toys.
I’m noticing a cleaner dining room, and it makes me happy. Now on to the laundry.
