Today, I did something not always in my character.  I didn't get bent out of shape about my chores that needed to be done.  I didn't ride Adam's ass nor hold a grudge because he couldn't help me out.  I didn't rush Patrick out the door.  I tried not to worry about how things should be.  I did only what needed to be done.

"Things don't have to be perfect all the time, Catie."

"I wish you still laughed like you used to."

These are two sentences that weren't meant to be related, but they are.  Rather, I think they are.  Adam said both of these to me one night during one of our talks.  It's probably been four months, but for one reason or another, they resonated on the inside.  Here is why: 

1.) I want so badly for the kids to have a happy childhood.  I want it so much, I become fixated on it.  Now, I don't want a you-get-everything-you-want childhood, but I want one full of happy memories and strong parents and loving gestures...and a tidy background.  I want them to remember all of their best moments in a neat and tidy space. I need this for them so much, I cannot relax until it happens.  I mean: I. Can. Not. Relax. Do the kids care? Nope.  So why do I want everything perfect? For me.  It's selfish. It's not about them at all (though I tell myself it is.). To be fair, I want my own memories neat.  Totally silly.

2.) I am happy.  In fact, I am so happy, sometimes I want to burst.  Do you know why? Because I have everything I ever wanted (minus an unlimited bank account and small boobs.)  So why don't I laugh like I used to? See above.  Also, I'm busy.  I make doctors appointments and take the kids.  I keep track of what is going on at Patrick's school.  I manage my schedule and Adam's.  I care for tiny kids and their 10,000 needs and wants.  I grocery shop and meal plan. I manage this house.  And I do it really well.  I mean, not to brag, but I'm good at this gig.  But, one could argue that I have lost part of me in the process.  I forgot about how much it means for the kids to see me having fun.  I forgot how to live in the moment.  

Today, I let it go.  It didn't bother me a bit. In fact, it was great. And I can't always just go about my day all wamsie-pamsie, I know that.  I have to own that I am forever changed by being a homemaker and caretaker of little people.  And that's okay.  Not intentionally, today I quit worrying about that nonsense. I didn't care that I had no control over the chore flow-chart. Because, even though it makes me feel euphoric when things are neat, it's also okay to have a day when everything falls apart. When I order pizza for dinner and have donuts for dessert.  When I forego folding laundry to draw maps with my boys or sit down to watch Dr. Phil while nursing my baby.  It's okay, I tell myself.  Nobody is here to judge me but me (and I'm probably the worst).

Today, nothing happened.  The house didn't fall down or catch on fire. Nobody called me a bad mom (of which I am aware). As we were saying, "cheers" over our pizza slices, I don't think the kids cared that the kitchen was unkempt or that I had a load of clean clothes in the dryer and two more loads on little Hatchie's bed. They were fine.  And I could wear my happiness on my face and not just in my heart.  And I laughed.  Silly laughed.  And it was wonderful.

Except tomorrow will be a bear, but that's ok. I bet the house won't burn down then, either.