We prefer messes to perfection. The life of a parent is messy. There’s poop and vomit and grass stains and permanent markers and “How did you get that up your nose?” And you know what? We like it that way.
Our apartment is rarely clean. It’s certainly not spic’n’span like certain family members’ houses (we won’t mention any names), but there are only so many hours in the day. When I get home from work – especially in the winter, when the drive is made so much longer by weather and people who’ve all forgotten how to drive in the snow – there isn’t much time for me to spend with my girls. So I make the most of it by actually spending time with them, and not cleaning. Sometimes Namine helps me with the dishes, but if they don’t get done, that’s okay too.
And the weekend? Well, it’s the only lengthy amount of time when the three of us can spend time with each other – outside of more-frequent-than-we-like-to-admit hospital visits – and let’s be honest, the apartment isn’t going to clean itself. (On an unrelated note, does anybody know where I can get one of those?) But when it’s a choice of cleaning or going bowling… yeah, we’re going bowling.
So bring on the mess. It’s better to spend the time we have with the ones we love.