chores vs. children

But I don't want to...


I hear this phrase often from my little people, upon being annoyed that I even asked and usually in response to a request to make a bed, to pick up shoes cast in the middle of the living room floor, or to pick up a wet towel from the bathroom floor. Seems there is always something far more important to do...somehow, even picking the lint from between their toes ranks above cleaning up after themselves.


If they'd just do it in the first place, I wouldn't have to ask.


I don't understand. Even as a child I was a fairly neat kid. I got the occasional request to clean my room, but I actually enjoyed it. I loved organizing my things, right down to my stuffed animals. I would change up how they were organized, sometimes alphabetical by name, sometimes by color. It didn't matter. I always knew where everything was and where it went. Definitely not a toss it all under the bed kind of kid.


Why can I not teach neatness to my offspring??? They are, after all, my flesh. There should be some of my obsessive compulsiveness within them, right? But alas, I have one child who is eager to help and does whatever is asked, two whose room could wreak of rancid wet towels for a week without them asking about the stink, one who is rapidly developing the art of creating living spaces similar to the after effects of a natural disaster, and one whose work habits are yet to be revealed. My home is definitely not the vision of lovliness I dreamed it would be many years ago before I had children. For me, order means peace. When my home is in order, I am at peace. My home is never in order.


Seriously, am I ever at peace? I mean really at peace? What does that even mean? I constantly seek peace, but what does that look like? Is peace really having a well kept home and clean well-behaved kids all the time? A lovely vision, no doubt, but definitely not real peace. I'm sure that this elusive concept is different for everyone, but for me, being at peace means letting go of the little things that do not deserve my attention...that means the bitterness at having to pick up just one more thing off the floor, the worry that someone might see how messy my car is on the inside, the guilt I feel for telling my child just a minute when asked to play. Would I lay down my life to have an immaculate home? Uh, nope. Would I die on a hill for my child's eternal life? YES, YES, YES!!! Sheesh, a no brainer.