I live in a community of mostly older people.
Mostly empty nesters and plenty of them are great-grandparents.
When I make my rounds with some of my kiddos, visiting and bringing neighbors their mail, dropping off cookies or just stopping by to say hello, I’m always struck by the perfect orderliness of their homes.
Lines in the carpet from the perfectly vacuumed floors.
No burnt out bulbs or trashed lampshades from footballs thrown inside on a rainy day.
No piles of laundry and their bathroom trashcans are neatly clean– even on the inside.
I get jealous.
On my best day, with all my kiddos working and slaving alongside me to prepare our house for company, our house stays relatively tidy for about 10 minutes.
And I can begin to get very frustrated about how for all the work that never ceases, my house should be a lot more tidy. A lot more organized. A lot more… perfect. With vacuum lines and no dust.
But then I realize… all too soon my home will be perfectly organized. Completely company-ready…all the time.
And my only hope at drawing my children over for visits will have been how I treated them during these dusty, dirty, unorganized, burnt-out-light-bulbs-no-toilet-paper-in-the-bathroom years of our lives.
And all of a sudden– cleanliness is overrated.
Instead I will enjoy the messiness of my children a whole lot more so that I may enjoy the pleasure of their company years from now.