I am Messy Mom

I am Messy Mom. (In spite of my deep cravings for all things simple and clutter-free.)

Welcome to my house! Please try not to trip over the assortment of shoes and boots as you enter. I do have an organizational system in place mere inches away in the front hall closet, but my children have yet to notice its presence.

A few tips before you enter my home:

*There will most definitely be unflushed pee and likely some poo in the toilets.

*There will be socks and underwear tucked under the couch pillows, jammed behind the plants and strewn haplessly in plain view. I know they are there. I just choose to ignore them until we run out.

*There will be piles of miniscule bits of paper on my kitchen floor. My 3 year old is really into cutting stuff and it makes preparing dinner that much easier.

*My 6 year old will ask to play his Wii atleast a dozen times. I don’t actually let him play his Wii all day when you’re not visiting, we have some pretty strict rules. But he senses as soon as my attention is on something else (YOU!) and he will pounce. In spite of being Messy Mom, I don’t let my kids sit in front of video games all day….then my house would be clean!

*My 5 year old will go through no less than 2 outfit changes while you are there. Oh, and don’t be surprised if at least 1 of my children is running around naked.

*I’m really not trying to tell you it’s time for you to leave if I unload the dishwasher while you are there. I hope you don’t think I’m rude. It gets loaded and unloaded no less then 486 times a week and I swear, I really am listening to you.

If only multi-tasking were a paying gig. But please, pay no mind to it; I love having you in my home!

*When I put the dog outside the second you enter my home, please don’t make excuses for her, telling me how much you love dogs. I want to keep my friends and the amount of slime our beloved Saint Bernard will surely sling onto your thighs will be enough to make you run screaming.

*Speaking of pants, please don’t wear black ones. Or white ones. Or really any color other than a funky beige and grey pattern which will nicely disguise the dog hair that will be plastered onto your bum by the end of your visit.

*About that lovable lazy dog. Here’s the thing. I have “house nose.” I love entering people’s houses and smelling their smell. (Does that make me creepy?) Very few houses have no smell. Most have distinct scents. I relish this and always feel at home when my nose picks up on a smell it remembers and enjoys. My sister Heidi’s house? She really needs to bottle it and sell it to those who are feeling lonely. So it’s a pure tragedy to tell you that my house smells. Not great, not good, not anything but dog with a little balled up wet sock mixed in. It’s everywhere. Even in the closets. LuLu, in all of her 150 pound glory, has managed to seep into every living pore of my house. Even when it’s clean, it’s still the eu du St. Bernard that we have grown so used to. Candles hold no flame (sorry) to LuLu. Some of the air fresheners kind of freak me out so I have chosen to live with the stink. Unless you have a bad cold, don’t even think about coming into my house during mud season.

In exchange for you not calling me out on the state of my house, here’s what I can offer you:

*I will always feed you. No matter where we are in the food shopping tango, I will make sure your belly is full. If I know you are coming, I will bake for you and give you lots of colorful fresh fruit and some tea or coffee.

*I promise I will always keep my clothes on.

*If your kids are coming for a playdate, they will have fun! My house is loud and crazy, but it’s full of happy chaos.

*I will not judge you if you are Clean Mom. At all. Let’s be honest, I will envy you a little bit, but it won’t impact our friendship. Promise. One of my very favorite people in this world is Clean Mom. She loves me and I love her. It’s kind of a fairy tale.  Messy Mom and Clean Mom CAN be just what the other needs.

*It may sometimes take me a day, but I promise I will answer your texts and your phone calls.  (Please don’t leave a voicemail, I won’t get it for weeks.) If you happen to catch me on a Friday night, I promise my texts will be funny and totally inappropriate.  (The Prosecco *may* have something to do with that.)

*I will stop making excuses for being Messy Mom if you promise to ignore all of the above and pretend it doesn’t exist. The way to my heart? Have another muffin.