I thrive when organization surrounds me and cleanliness abounds: Bookshelves tidied just so, toy boxes sorted by colors and type, mail filed neatly and hidden out of sight, dishes all washed with a sparkling clean kitchen counter, carpet devoid of debris and laundry washed, dried, and folded tidily in their appropriate dresser drawers.
I relish in the delight of children saying please and thank you, pleasantly requesting my attention to their needs, and playing joyfully with one another, amiably working through disputes.
As I attempted to pick up 5 million pairs of shoes, wash the mountain of dirty breakfast dishes, start my nightly 15 loads of laundry and prepare a nutritious dinner Riley was ignoring my repeated requests to take out our overflowing garbage, Hope was demanding my constant attention and Nico was, of course, wreaking havoc throughout my house: insisting he sweep my kitchen counter (that just so happened to be muddled with fresh vegetables, and other dinner preparations) with my filthy broom, spilling gallons of water all over my kitchen floor, sorting my recyclables all throughout the house, and filling my clogged toilet with every household item he could find – all while trying to fish out a loose piece of floating waste.
I lost it…
My clean, organized house was turning into a war zone and my well behaved children had lost every last bit of their pleasantry and their manners has turned into unruly demands and ear piercing temper tantrums complete with crocodile tears.
I let my emotions get the best of me and (this is just for your pure enjoyment) I slammed cupboards, kicked doors, threw laundry and spanked numerous behinds while crossly threatening an early bed time and loudly conveying my frustration at their behavior.
Admittedly I find it easier to keep my house clean than I do to corral my children’s behavior. My house doesn’t argue and I can see the instant results of my labor after scrubbing a toilet or vacuuming my floors – at least momentarily – until some uses the bathroom or walks through my house with muddy shoes.
But come to think of it now, my house defies me as well as it does repeated get messy and unorganized…
Perhaps I must rethink my priorities and give a bit on those things I feel compelled to control. My house will always be a mess as long as I live with three children and a husband who do not find my same delight in a clean house. But my children’s behavior must be molded and shaped now and the best way to teach them is through example. If I throw a temper tantrum when my vision of a clean house and well behaved children is shattered by reality then why shouldn’t they throw a temper tantrum when they don’t get their way?
Swallowing my pride I apologized to my kids, calmly explaining my frustration but clearly conveying that my frustration was self induced and certainly didn’t excuse my childish behavior. Sometimes I have to admit defeat and focus on what I can control. I have to demonstrate this lesson by example. I have rethink my desire to always have a clean, organized house and refocus my efforts on listening to what my children are trying to tell me. They needed my attention. The dinner and the laundry could wait. A short story or a quick game of b'ball would have most certainly refocused their energy and soothed their demands for attention leaving me the freedom to get dinner on the table and at least make a small dent in the mountain of laundry.
My vision of a clean house with a nutritious dinner on the table and children waiting patiently was clouded by reality and I was losing control (and not very gracefully mind you).
So now I am admittedly a control freak in therapy (blogging therapy that is)… learning little by little to give up some control, modify my desires and focus on the momentary needs of my children that mean so much more than a clean house -and will hopefully provide much longer lasting results as they learn to conjure up realistic expectations, be flexible in their desires and control their emotions when reality alters their vision.
My proposed solution to all of this: my housekeeper should visit more often.
But… my reality in all of this: my house will always be messy…
However… my hope in all of this: eventually my children will thrive on the extra attention and be molded by my (more) appropriate behavior.
And... my wish in all of this: my children will learn to become neat freaks regardless...
I want to know if Riley got a spankin too??? Funny thing is I can picture your tantrum and your red face and I am totally laughing. Good job for pulling it all together.
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