Ox in the Mire

Today we totally did not keep the Sabbath day holy. And I’m going to go out on a limb here, but I think that this particular time, it is NOT going to count against me. Let me explain.

I’ve made much of my schedule right now, how little I see my kids, how hectic things are while I’m trying to study for the bar. One of the casualties of this insanity is my house. I cleaned like crazy on New Years Day – the kids were at their dad’s, I had the day off work, what better to do than clean bathrooms? I was motivated by the realization that I wasn’t going to have another chance until who knew when. And I have 2 boys – seriously, the toilets would have risen up in porcelain mutiny.

I love my house. I love it more when it’s clean. My mom is a ridiculously good housekeeper. It’s disgusting. And impossible to live up to. Better Homes and Gardens could walk in a do a photo shoot on almost any given day. Bleechh. Me, on the other hand, not so much. When I was a young(er) mother, back when I only had 2 kids and neither of them could walk yet, my friends used to call me “Monica” after Courtney Cox-Arquette’s character on Friends. For the few years I was a stay-at-home mom, I kept up with things fairly well. I even had a system – Tuesday was Bathrooms Day. Thursday was Laundry Folding Day. I mopped the kitchen floor every night after dinner. Wow. I’m just going to sit here for a minute and bask in the memory. Weird.

Those days are long gone. Lo-o-o-ng gone.

Now, it’s more about survival. Can we get out the door if the house catches on fire? Move those coats/shoes/backpacks and the answer is yes. Can I get to the fridge if I’m starving to death? Scoot those chairs back to the dining room table and….yes. Can we find 5 pairs of shoes so everyone leaves the house shod? Zach, wear Abby’s Sunday shoes and walk fast, no one will notice.

Today it got to be too much. So we got home from church, had dinner and went to work. I felt guilty, since it’s supposed to be a day of rest and all, and here I was, sending my girls upstairs with the toilet bowl cleaner and Windex. But then……

About 10 minutes later, I hear them singing, together, “When We’re Helping, We’re Happy!” And they were making up verses. Together. And singing. Together. And working. Together. Singing. Working. Improvising. Holy whip! It’s a Christmas miracle! Six weeks late. Or 46 weeks early, whichever.

Doesn’t matter, I’ll take it.

Then Rachel came downstairs and said, “There’s nothing I love more than the smell of a clean house.” Success!!

Wait, what’s this? My girls are coming downstairs with babushka neckerchiefs on their heads…they’re going to do a musical…they’re singing again….

Spectacular. The shaking is me laughing.