Usually, the impending arrival of Mama Syd will send me into a cleaning frenzy. Not that she cares about how the house looks, but I want her to see that I am a big girl. I can do it all by myself! Look at me! I’m holding it together!
But this time, this time, I kept my sanity. Whether it was because we were all sick, I’m lazy, I’m learning to let go or all of the above, I just gave up this time. I saw to it that the guest room bed was made and free of laundry and the floor had been swept. I made sure the bathroom was scrubbed and smelled fresh and then I stopped. I realized that to go all out with the cleaning was really an exercise in futility because Mama Syd would arrive, her suitcases would explode and we’d be back at square one anyway.
Letting go! Letting go!
Sure enough, within minutes of entering the house, the kids had a joyful reunion with most of their Christmas toys.
“Oh! I remember THIS!”
“You remembered this?! It’s my favorite!”
“Can I play with this RIGHT NOW? Please?!?!”
Flotsam and jetsam were flung far and wide and what little control I thought I had over the constant mess was lost in the avalanche. I started to feel a tightening in my chest and a pulsing behind my eyes.
Then, God bless her, upon entering her room, my mom said, “Oh! It looks so pretty in here!”
I took a deep breath, smiled at the kids joy and let it go.
Twenty-four hours later, though, I reached for the reins.
“Okay guys. I need your help cleaning up this mess.”
Max looked around, saw this:
Thanks Max, for reminding me about where to place my worry. Here I’ve been spending all this time worrying about the house appearing clean when I should have been worrying about your vision. Commencing worrying sequence NOW.