A dose of reality

The discussion about our "white" couch in the comment section of this post makes me realize that perhaps some of you have an unrealistic picture of our life in the big ugly house. In order to disabuse you of the notion that we rival Martha Stewart for loveliness and organization, I will share some glimpses into what life really looks like around here.

• I can't think the last time we ate dinner before 7 pm. We used to eat at a more reasonable time, but the babies seem to need to nurse right when I should be preparing dinner. It's hard to eat at six when that's the time preparations are beginning.
• There are always toys everywhere, mainly due to K. I forgot what chaos-makers three year olds can be. K. is quite willing to help put away the toys, but doesn't quite understand that I don't want them to come out again immediately after picking up. Some evenings we don't get to the last scheduled pick-up time and I briefly think it would serve a robber right when he breaks his neck tripping though the mine field that is often my house.
• Some days I don't get dressed until 11 am. By the time I've fed both babies, helped with various schoolwork questions and (if I'm lucky) started a load of laundry, it is often time to nurse babies again. I always hope we don't have unexpected visitors, though it's happened.
• I have completely abdicated responsibility for breakfast. J., winner of the most wonderful husband award, has taken that on. It is even more impressive when you realize that we don't buy cold cereal. J. makes oatmeal, farina, scones, muffins, and quick breads to fill-up the ravenous hoards while I lie in bed either nursing or dozing...depending on the kind of night we've had. J. even brings me my first cup of coffee in bed. It's the life of leisure I have...well until about 8:30.
• Evidently I have also completely abdicated all cleaning responsibilities if the state of my bedroom is any indication. Most of the rest of the house is clean and presentable because those duties have been divied-up between the children. But my bedroom is my responsibility and if I ever go too long between posts it wouldn't be unrealistic to wonder if I have been taken hostage by mammoth dust bunnies.
• And if I'm not done in by the dust bunnies, my being buried alive in an avalanche caused by the papers that are piled about on my desk is another distinct possibility. The piling started because I had run out of room in the filing cabinet. Now I have a larger filing cabinet, but it is easier to continue piling than to sort it all out.

I could go on and on, but I'll spare you the gruesome details. I am continually asked how I manage 'to do it all' and I wonder what the 'all' is that I'm doing. Most days I feel as though I'm doing the bare minimum for survival. But in general I'm OK with that. I'd rather focus on spending time with my family and friends than trying to maintain a home that might grace the pages of House Beautiful. I do have my moments of wishing my house could stay clean and picked-up for more than an hour (minutes?) at a time, but that would mean my home wasn't filled with children and the price for a pristine house is a little too steep for me to pay.

"Cleaning and scrubbing
can wait 'til tomorrow
For babies grow up,
we've learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs,
Dust go to sleep,
I'm rocking my baby
and babies don't keep."

-Ruth Hulbert Hamilton