Doing It All

"I can't have anyone over. My house is way too messy! You must be so organized to do all the things you do with your children! I'd like to but I have lots and lots of things that have to be done first. I don't know how you do it"

Hearing comments like these on a regular basis has prompted me to share my secret.

Tonight I'm having friends over in one hour. I'm celebrating Little Mother's First Day of School. (detailed on here on the dinner blog) I'm decorating. I'm creating. I'm loving sweeties.

We just returned from our camping/backpacking trip. We left it here to attend church and honor God. Here is the view from the hall into the family room.

Briz is preparing to leave on a 6 day 50 mile hike with the boy scouts tomorrow morning at 5 a.m. I'm looking for rubber bands and travel sized toothpaste. This is the view on our kitchen table.

To camp with my family, I left a pile of clothing ready to hang on the laundry room counter. Briz, in a frantic search for sock liners or other such thing, stuffed the load from the dryer on top of my pile.

Life goes and goes, people come and go. Some grow up and move away, others move on, others pass on. The first day of school will not wait for my laundry to be neatly folded and put away. Friends left without time wither like plants without water. People with needs never seem to wait till I find it convenient and I am on top of my ball game. Opportunities come . . . and I can take them . . . or wait until the children are grown and gone . Usually by the time I am on top of my game, the opportunity to celebrate, to love, to bond, to enjoy has passed and I am left with sparkling floors. Hour by hour, minute by minute, I ask myself, "what pressing task matters most?"

Oh yes. I fantasize about going to bed with a pristine house. I wish my entertaining were Marthaesque. I have hundreds of ideas my time will not allow into reality. No, I'm not thrilled about my friends possibly looking in on my laundry. But, if they do, I hope they realize that they and the opportunity of time with them always comes first. People, my sweethearts, others, take priority. My time for memories comes and goes. So fleeting, so fast.

I do the best I can with the piles, shut the laundry room door and answer the door. "Jodi, Christian, kids! I am SO glad to see you." And I am.

Now you know my dirty little secret. I really can't do it all. I really mourn what I cannot and choose not to accomplish. Do you still respect me?