Good Intentions

I had every intention of getting some good cleaning done tonight.  The back area of our kitchen has never recovered from the move...there is a perfectly good countertop back there piled high with all manner of random junk:  a brown grocery bag of light bulbs, washing machine hoses, a bag of those safety covers for long blind cords, felt stickies for the bottom of furniture legs, a level.  The list could go on, but I think the point is made.  Most of it was in our laundry room in the other house, and it just needs to find a good spot to live here in this house.  We also have a laundry sorter that keeps laundry separated into three piles.  It sat in the middle of the floor back there, taking up so much space.  And it never accomplished its purpose of sorting; our laundry just got dumped in helter-skelter with nary a thought to lights, darks, whites, towels, rags, or however we might have come up with a system to organize our dirty laundry.

Do you know when we were first married I drove our laundry to Mike's campus where there was a big laundry room and just did it all at once every so often?  I would do 8-10 loads at a time.  And I folded all of our dirty laundry in the baskets so that it would all fit nicely.  I had a lot of time on my hands back then.  I cannot even get our clean laundry folded and put away, much less fold up our dirty stuff.

Anyway, I was trying to get that sorter out of the kitchen and had just started cleaning the floor, on my hands and knees with a soapy rag, when Eliana started crying.  It was a little after 9:00 p.m.!  This was way too early!  I pretty much told her to get out of her bed on her own (which she can now do...help me, please!) and she followed me around while I finished wiping the floor.  I got her settled again, and tried to start in on the kitchen once more, but soon heard her little feet patting my way.  She was crying.  I asked her if she was okay, washed my hands up, and changed my clothes so that I felt cleaner.  I finally picked her up and she seemed fine at this point.  She looked at my face intently and said,"Hi, mom.  Kiss?"

How can I stay upset when I am faced with that?  Will you please tell me? 

I can make whatever plan I want to make, and I can get so irritated that it doesn't go the way I was hoping that it would, but if what I'm supposed to do is hold my baby girl (yes, yes, I know she is technically not a baby anymore, thank you for informing me of that, accuracy police) and give her a little snuggle before she settles back down to sleep peacefully for a while, then I can do nothing except just that, and gladly, in the end.

I'm so sorry to have just made you read through one of the longest and twisty sentences in the history of the world (or my blog).

It also afforded me the time to sit and read in a book that I started a while ago, as well as in my B-I-B-L-E.  I sat with her while she went back to sleep, and had a moment to get quiet myself.  It had been a while.

So, here's to a sweet snuggle earlier than usual and a good read.  Perspective shifted, and to all a good night.

Comments

[Mindee@ourfrontdoor]

I have to say that I miss the snuggles. Faith's 4th grade legs just don't fit so nicely anymore. Enjoy one for me. :(

[Elaine]

Awww. Cute story. Snuggling is better than cleaning any day.