It seems like lately all I do is apologize. I’m sorry we’re running late to softball practice, I had to drop off the boys at baseball first. I’m sorry I forgot to text you back, my phone went off fourteen hundred times last night and it slipped my mind. I’m sorry my dog got out of the house, I’ve tried my best to train the kids to only let them in the back yard. And I’m sorry, oh so very sorry that this house is never ever as clean as it once was, which was never quite as clean as I wish it was. But most of all, I’m sorry I’ve had to say I’m sorry so many times, and frankly, I’m sick of being so sorry….
I’d like to paint a sign and hang it by the front door. It’s going to say “Welcome to the Zoo” with a disclaimer that reads: this is a real zoo, complete with wild animals, funky smells, and cranky children who’ve been in the sunshine for too long.
Sometimes I get so caught up comparing myself to everyone else that I become completely lost. I’m thinking of perfectly polished base boards when I try to go to sleep and I make lists I’ll never accomplish. And then these days sneak up on me when it all comes crashing down. Take today for example. The dryer broke. I think it’s been headed that direction for about a week now. I’ve been limping along, drying loads twice, falling further and further behind, and when my husband complained about the lack of freshly washed socks, I said, you guessed it… “I’m sorry…”
What I meant to say is “feel free to hire a maid” while I fantasized of a triple loading commercial size washer and dryer or a world where socks have become disposable. I know, that’s not very environmental of me. I shouldn’t want to throw away 8 pairs of socks a day, but I do. I really do. I’m going to admit it, I use paper plates more than I should, and if I could add socks to my “just toss it out” pile, I think I’d have to go for it.
This life of mine can be so overwhelming at times. So many people have offered up their best ideas, but the truth is, I’m kind of alone in the execution of it all. I’m not mad about that. It’s just life. My husband has to work an awful lot of hours to support all of us. But it’s kind of hard to manage it all. I work and go to school and take my kids to their sports and activities and cook and clean and try to help others where I’m needed and in the end, I get a little of everything done, but never do I finish it all. I can make a chore chart and pass out some stickers and buy ice cream on Fridays for those who cleaned their rooms, but the truth of the matter is, I’m still drowning. I can’t keep up with the ideals I have created. For that, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to apologize anymore.
I’m just never going to make it to Better Homes and Gardens, but if I manage to stay off of HOARDERS: BURIED ALIVE, we’re going to call this a success! And if somehow, I wake up to the delivery of some commercial size appliances, well, then I will call it Heaven. Somebody call the Maytag man, I think I need a favor!!!