peculiar momma

The last several days (and nights) have been harried. I’ve been working and feeling that ever familiar tug between family and career. I haven’t seen my husband for 48-hours; he’s been working days and me nights. He leaves for work just before I get home and returns just after I leave. This morning I came home just in time to take middle daughter to school and drop little sis off at the neighbors. Then I had to go back to work for a meeting. The boy had already left for school and I hadn’t seen him since Sunday either.

I was running about the house -- gathering ballet clothes, schoolwork, etc. and stopped to look around. The place was a disaster. I sighed, picked up a few things and raced out the door feeling like a domestic failure. My car was equally as filthy which did little to improve my mood.

My meeting, of course, lasted longer than anticipated. I hurried home to retrieve little sis. Little sis, however, had other plans and wanted to stay to play with her friend. Suddenly, after four non-stop days, I found a free moment. So what’s an overworked domestic failure to do? Clean out the car!

Goodbye skis and snow shoes -- back to the garage you go. Goodbye unopened bottles of grape juice, miniature skateboards and tennis balls. Hello missing snow boot and missing piano book. And I found something else --I found my groove. Out came the vacuum; away with the dirt, the pine needles and pine cone bits. Away with the dog hair and Cheerios. Out came some cleanser and a sponge. Away with the crusted milk, unidentified goop and dashboard dust. And away with my bad mood. Why didn’t I do this sooner?

Were this a typical January day you would not find me cleaning my car. But today is not a typical day. I've been given the gift of sunshine. It is warm and nearly 50 degrees.

I felt industrious and just darn good. Now I have a clean car and improved state of mind.

The thing is, I forgot my car could be clean (relatively speaking of course). I became so used to the filth muck that I forgot there was another way. And I think the same holds true for life. We get so used to living the harried life that we forget there are other ways, other paths begging to be explored.

So now I’m going to start on my house -- cleaning and contemplating. If nothing else I'll have a lovely house in which to begin the first day of the rest of my life.

Here's hoping each of you are gifted with a warm January day to tidy up your own lives, both mentally and physically. Let's meet in the slow lane and compare notes, shall we?