20 March 2011

Mess, Glorious Mess

Lately, things are a mess. My house is a mess. Generally I am a die-hard 'everything has a place, everything in it's place' kinda gal. Order and organization makes the world go round, right? It brings joy to my heart. If you’ve been a reader long, you know this about me. But lately, it just hasn’t been happening.

It’s pajamas in a pile on the floor all day long and a steady line of dirty diapers leading the way from the changing table to the dirty diaper bucket in the bathroom, which, ironically (and to my husband's great distress) has a teetering tower of seven diapers on top of the lid and none actually IN the bucket. There are books everywhere, adult and child versions, including two kids books on a stool by the toilet cause my boy likes to read while he, ya know, takes care of business. There are crumbs from last night’s dinner still under the kitchen table that are now feeding twelve colonies of ants from the four corners of the earth. A now spoiled bottle sits on the bookshelf and there may or may not be three cups of half drank coffee sitting in various places around the house. If someone could please bottle them into tiny capsules and force them down my throat then I might be able to take care of some of this mess.

Mess. Glorious mess.

And besides the visible mess in my house, my brains are also a mess. Now I’m not talking about the emotional-wreck kind of mess (although I’ve been there too, believe you me), but recently it’s more of a failure to properly straighten and organize my brain in the same way that I can’t keep my home straightened and organized. Stuff just gets tossed about in my brain (like in the house) and it quickly becomes impossible to locate the bit of needed information when necessary.

And this isn’t affecting just me.

Just ask my husband. This messy house thing is a source of great distress for him who can hardly function if everything isn’t in it’s place. I'm trying, I really am, but frankly I can’t keep up. And he loves me even when he comes home to see that another toy and laundry hurricane has made us victims in our very own home, yet again. God bless him.

Mess. Glorious mess.

You could also ask my dear friend L about my recent exhibition of great brain disorder. She gets regular perplexed looks from me each time she asks "How was that thing yesterday?" That's when I blank stare in her direction. "What was yesterday?" I have to ask because my brain fingers are snatching about in my head cavity but can’t seem to grasp any floating item of relevant information amongst the swirling bits about toys and laundry. Then she tells me whatever it was I did yesterday. "Oh yeah!! That's right... so and so was great, thanks for asking" I respond once she has refreshed my memory. Then upon parting, she often says, "See ya tomorrow!" At which point I once again get a perplexed look on my face and have to ask "Now, what's happening tomorrow?" She graciously tells me what we have planned for tomorrow, I tell her thanks for reminding me, I’m really looking forward to it and I'm not normally like this. Then we bid adios. However, I realize that the more time this scenario repeats itself... the more I am becoming a liar with my statement. Maybe this brain disorganization is the new me. Lord have mercy.

Mess, glorious mess.

In order to make myself feel better, I have concluded that my disorganized house and my non-functioning cranium are normal because my dear little tweedle dee and tweedle dum are ages three and one. (Are you nodding your head in agreement? Cause I need a little affirmation here, people). I find myself functioning in the urgent for the first time in my life. And not just the the-baby-has-climbed-on-top-of-the-plant-table-and-is-looking-very-proud-of-her-teetering-little-self kind of run over and get her real quick urgent. But the urgent like planning my Sunday School lesson the hour before we leave to go to church and thinking about what we should eat for dinner at like, dinner time. This goes against everything in my body and soul and about gives me a heart attack, but I can’t seem to locate and apply an ounce of fore-thought to some of these things ahead of time, let alone make early preparations. So things get done at the last minute. And that makes me want to grab a paper bag in my fist and breathe into it like they do in the movies... if I could just remember where it was I put those paper bags...

Mess, glorious mess.

But do you know what? I'm enjoying this season of life. I'm content. I'm happy... so happy with where I'm at right now. I surprise myself and find myself actually embracing all this mess. Internal and external.

I know, is this me talking? Really? It's so incredibly unlike me and so different from our usual way of functioning that I fear that my husband might secretly regret the holy union we made seven years ago once he sees that I have combined the words 'embrace' and 'mess' in this post.


The thing is... all the the disorder and chaos reminds me that life is happening. Busy, challenging, happy, glorious life is happening. And I am so thankful for that. So I embrace it. All of it.

Read the sequel to this post here

1 comment:

  1. I only have a moment to comment, because we have a coughing trio (Me, E, and L) here and I have to get the baby to the doctor to make sure it's "just a cough." I can totally relate to this post! It gives me great comfort that I am normal :) Mike sounds like Ben...can hardly function in a disorganized mess. It's taken me several years to understand this about him, because am not necessarily the same way. I don't like a big mess, but things out of place don't get to me too badly. Although I am finding myself being a little more like him as time goes on. I am also thankful for this season of life. Hope you guys have a great day!


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