Just five years ago, I refused to go to sleep unless the house looked flawless and the sink was completely empty. Every surface had to be wiped down, every toy put away, every last dish cleaned. Now, we go to sleep most nights with a sink full of dishes and at least one part of the house in total disarray. Sometimes it’s a carefully arranged doll village set up in my room. Other times it’s glitter and tiny cut-up pieces of paper scattered across the playroom floor, a fort taking over the living room, or some wildly elaborate animal-and-blanket fortress creeping up the stairs.
And honestly? That’s okay.
On the bright side, the sink is full of dishes because we ate good food together. The doll village exists because my daughters are creating stories, imagining family dynamics, and bonding as sisters. The glitter and scraps of paper mean they’re experimenting with creativity and expression - and yes, quite literally shining, thanks to the glitter. The blankets and stuffies piled on the stairs… well, those are probably a safety hazard, but they’re also evidence of imagination running wild.
The last two years have been extremely challenging. There were many moments when I told myself I couldn’t possibly keep going. And yet, somehow, I did. Not just for me, but for my sweet daughters. Most days are still hard, and I don’t always feel like I’m doing enough. But when I see the joy, comfort, and ease on their faces as they exist freely in the space we call home, it reminds me that I’m doing far better than I think.
The mess doesn’t mean failure. Sometimes, it means life is being lived fully, and right now, that matters more than spotless counters ever could.
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