Everything has spiralled out of control again the last few days. My mother came to stay with us over the weekend and her visit has reminded me why I’m doing this. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my parents and really, genuinely enjoyed having her here – she took us out to see some excellent theatre at Sydney Children’s Festival and played loads of pretend with the girls while hubby and I went out for brunch. It was AWESOME!
But the aftermath was pretty overwhelming.
Toys and clothes everywhere; dishes sprawled on the bench, covered in congealing gunk; art and craft supplies strewn across the kitchen table (like, more than usual); hyped up kids full of sugar and buzzing from the constant stream of “yes;” a bin full of food which could’ve been stashed in the fridge for later- and I wasn’t much better! Thanks to Mum’s love of indulgence her wallet was constantly open while she was here. We ate out each night and if I ever had to buy something she would hand me fifty bucks and tell me to keep the change. I must say I milked it for all it was worth (hubby gets paid monthly so we were seriously broke over the weekend). Did I stash that bonus cash away and spend it wisely though? Of course not! I was like a kid in a candy store and splurged on luxury items as fast as she handed it to me.
ALL of us had serious “sugar” comas Sunday afternoon. I sat down in a sea of clutter, nearly empty pocket burning a hole in my conscience, and was not particularly proud of myself.
I let myself wallow even more yesterday to give my depression time to frolic and cavort through my head, casually flinging insults and I-told-you-so’s over her shoulder. Things got pretty bad by bedtime, but I woke up with a glimmer of resolve this morning and tracked down one of my favourite quotes (by Robert Brault) to meditate on while waiting for my espresso to cool.
So often in life I get discouraged too easily. When I hit a hurdle, no matter how small, it is life mocking me for thinking progress was possible. “It’s all too hard!” I will tell myself, hand stapled firmly to forehead for maximum effect. “I may as well give up and accept things as they are,” I will add as I flop dejectedly on the floor and eat popcorn with the kids while they mindlessly stab at the iPad.
Well I’m sorry, oh melodramatic one, but there’s a new boss in town. I know that progress is possible. I have blog posts and photos and small oases of order around the house to prove it. So things stalled over a special visit from Gran for a few days. So what? So you have to put other plans on hold for a moment to get back up to scratch again. So what? What’s the alternative here? Give up? Keep driving yourself and the rest of your family nuts by embracing the chaos and clutter and disconnect? Not an option anymore.
This is just a small step back in the cosmic cha-cha of life, not a reason to give up. Time for a quick ball-change then step forward to the next beat.
Cha cha cha!
*no jazz-hands were hurt in the writing of this post.