Some days (okay, many days), I look around at my house in sheer frustration. Nothing is clean…everything’s a mess. It’s a daily struggle to keep up.
I love my little man, but he has made my life so very unpredictable. Some days he’ll take several long naps, and let me lay him down, allowing me to actually get a few things done. Other days, he’s clingy and wakes up if I lay him down. Some days, I can get him to sit and watch me while I work. Others, he cries the moment I sit him down, and I spend my entire day walking and bouncing him.
I crave organization. I love to have an order to my days. Problem is, right now I never know ahead of time how each day will go. The only thing I know for sure is that I will spend the day with my sweet baby boy. How many chores will get done, I don’t know. It’s even questionable whether I’ll be able to finish my makeup.
I read other blogs of moms with new babies. Sometimes, they make me inadequate. Like when they actually have time to blog, or note that they’re getting back into a schedule…and their baby is younger than mine. It makes me feel like I must be doing something wrong. Why is my bathroom still dirty while theirs is clean?
It’s then that I realize that I can’t compare myself to others, or even to my own life in different seasons. There is no one else in the world with my life, my house, my unique baby boy. The truth of the matter is, I do the best I possibly can. I’m rarely idle, and I use every free moment to do something.
My baby may just be more unpredictable or want to be held more than these other women’s babies. They may be able to do more while “babywearing” because they’re not as tall as me, and don’t have to bend over just to wash dishes. They may have a smaller house, a husband that’s less busy than mine, or whatever else the case may be. The point is, I don’t know…and I don’t want to know. I don’t need to be comparing myself to them!
My only aim in life is to do what God puts before me for each day. Right now, that’s bouncing a sweet baby boy named Miles, helping my husband in his work, and keeping up with housekeeping to the best of my abilities. As long as I’m doing that, I should be happy and proud of what I accomplish each day.
My house won’t always look like this. One day I won’t have any more babies to rock. And you know what? I’ll probably wish I could trade my clean, well-kept house for just a few minutes with a fussy baby. But then, it’s easy to think that the grass is always greener on the other side, in another season. May I not waste the beauty of this one in feeling defeated, frustrated, and jealous. May I find joy in each precious moment with my little one. All too soon, those moments will be gone.