It has been a long week. Last week, Keith came home with a horrible cold/cough. I tried to let him sleep as late as possible each evening before work, and he spent most of the day Saturday in bed. He insisted, however, that we go to the Indy Boat, Sport and Travel Show. After a few hours, I began to feel icky.
We went to dinner at my parents’ house, and I rapidly began to decline. Cough, sore throat, etc.
Well, I managed Monday okay, but spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday on the couch, letting Nathanael watch too much tv, make too big of a mess playing in the kitchen sink, and eating whatever he wanted.
Thursday I spent the entire day in bed, because coughing had kept me awake pretty much all week. Actually, Keith got home about 2:30 Thursday morning, so I took sleeping pills and zonked out. He baked my Mom 2 Mom breakfast casserole and met my friend Amy out front with it. He stayed up all day with the kiddo and called in sick that night (which was great, since we had an ice storm Thursday night).
I spent most of today on the couch again. Just putting laundry in one machine or the other wears me out. Dinner about left me catatonic. I put an all call on Facebook for help and a friend showed up am hour later with milk and break & bake chocolate chip cookies! Thank God for good friends (all from our church).
But my house? Is. Trashed.
Completely gross. Laundry is clean, but in baskets or the dryer. Dishes are done, but only because I ran out of counter space. The front room is littered with toys and crumbs, nothing has been swept or vacuumed or dusted or organized all week. Oh! I did manage to pay bills this morning!
I have been using the Confident Mom planner since January (www.theconfidentmom.com) and I LOVE it. My house has never been more clean and organized, and I have never been more proud of my home. But this week? I haven’t done anything beyond survival skills.
I have to continually cut myself some slack. My husband certainly doesn’t expect a perfect house EVER, let alone when I look and feel like death warmed over. As long as he has applesauce, playdo, and clean jammies, Nathanael doesn’t care, either. But I feel like I am somehow letting them down or not taking “good enough” care of them.
If we look back in a few years, and the kid even remembers this week, he’s going to remember it as the week he got to eat whatever he wanted (waffles and a ham sandwich for lunch. Sure! Hot dog for a snack? Sure!) watch whatever he wanted (Diego 6 times in a row? Sure! Just let me lay here so I don’t hack up a lung!), and play unbothered in the kitchen sink (I fell asleep on the couch at one point, and he submerged my mixer in a sink full of water. Oops.).
Does it matter that my house is temporarily gross? Nope.
Does it matter that I will miss this week’s training runs? Nope.
Does it matter that my family is warm, fed, clothed and knows that I love them? Yep. And that is all that matters.
Do you need to cut yourself some slack?
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