Picture of Real
This morning I was rage cleaning my house and muttering under my breath about how we can’t have nice things.
For anyone not familiar, rage cleaning is something that typically happens in my home on a weekend morning, after a day of chaos, where the dog becomes afraid of the vacuum and my boys hide from me.
For context, I had just finished picking slime out of my living room rug. Which I felt extra frustrated by because we don’t allow slime here. But yet it appears.
Next to the rug sits my entertainment center, stuffed to the brim with ripped books and puzzles missing pieces. I organized it a few days ago, but that is not evident today. I used to be able to hide the mess but the cupboard door has since been torn off. It now lies behind the entertainment center. A constant reminder for me to remind my husband to put it back on.
My Christmas pillows that I meticulously picked out for my couch are covered in Cheeto stains. Dried milk and crumbs on the couch. I swear you could eat a full meal off my couch at times. And I know if I stick my hand in between the cushions I will find wrappers, Nerf gun bullets, and dog hair.
The floor is littered with staples and shreds of paper from my oldest son’s books and magazines that he takes apart daily.
My kitchen rugs are stained with pee and puke, and footprints. Some are from dogs. Some are from little boys. Some are from big boys.
My walls are dented. One specific one involved my middle son riding a box down the stairs. He survived. The wall did not.
Everything else is broke, stained, or damaged.
As I rage vacuumed I thought about all the nice things we could have. I thought about the picture perfect scenes in the hallmark movies I watch every night before bed, next to my leaning Christmas tree that has already fallen down three times since December 1. It’s so crooked that at this point we know it’s a lost cause. We simply moved all the ornaments to the opposite side to buy us some time.
There are needles everywhere. And at least once a week the baby gets in the tree water. And the dog water.
I said the sentence out loud that I’ve heard so many moms say…’why can’t we have nice things?!’ Then it dawned on me…the only way this house is going to be picture perfect is if we don’t live here. Because my family is like a swarm of locusts. But cute ones.
We are messy. We are loud. We are chaotic.
But we are also really happy. And blessed.
We may not have nice things. And it may look like the walls are going to crumble down around us.
But would I trade it?
Not for the world. We are raising boys over here.
I just need to remind myself of that the next time my favorite knickknack gets broke by a hockey stick (that shouldn’t be in the house).
Messes mean lived in. Messes mean fun. Messes mean we have everything we need.
No picture perfect over here. Instead we are a picture of real.
Someday this house will probably be clean. But it will also be quiet. And empty. So I’ll take this as long as I am blessed to have it.
Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook, subscribe for exclusive videos, and subscribe to our newsletter.
