Circus Tricks

It has been proved over time that you can indeed teach an old dog new tricks. I however, am not training old dogs but rather 1 incredibly obedient Rhino, 1 tornado- impersonating Tiger, 1 good behaved but extremely emotional Puppy and 1 firecracker of a Monkey. Of course this doesn't include the training sessions I still have with Mr. Zookeeper or myself- we are never done learning or mastering our skills.

It can come as no surprise, then, that my sweet home where angels encircle my little ones is not always heavenly. We've got lots of white fluffy things but that's just since Tiger has found a new passion for pulling the stuffing out of the pillows. Those shiny stars you see off to the distance are actually pieces of broken glass from my once favorite dishes and keepsakes and the Hallelujah Chorus is loudest when someone makes it all of the way to the bathroom (flushing excluded from the celebration).

While it's not a war zone, though you should always proceed with caution, my house just never seems to stay clean for very long- regardless of how hard I try. My mother had, has and will always have a clean house. I find myself comparing my habits to hers. I read about women who appear to have it all together (or at least blog like they do probably to make themselves feel better) and wonder what I can do to improve. What little changes can I make today that will somehow make tomorrow a little more easier or at least a little less exhausting? It's hard to prepare for tomorrow when you're still cleaning up from two weeks ago.

There are so many books, blogs, websites, magazines and on that give an abundance of wonderful ideas. I use some of them, like most of them and find others that are just dumb but nonetheless, I'm sure they work for somebody. Because I had a ten minute cry about the state of confusion my house was in this morning- I began rummaging through my brain for some of these ideas. Then, it hit me. No- not the same rock that Monkey whacked Puppy with this morning but the light bulb that dangles over our head when our brains catch up to our spirits. These chore charts and schedules were written for normal people with normal lives- and we are anything but.

I wash my walls like most people wash their dishes. I shampoo the carpets more than most people shampoo their hair and between picky eaters and runaways; I make at least seven meals a day (not including necessary snacks) and am in constant state of high alert. We have locks on everything to keep people in, we don't care about keeping people out because no intruder would make it past the front room with all of the surprise booby traps we have laid out on a continual basis. Some folks enjoy a day outdoors while I am spending my days removing items from the house that belong outdoors (this morning's rock for example). In spite of my protests, Tiger feels the laundry serves a better purpose covering the floor tops rather than occupying shelves and apparently toilet paper with buckets of water is just so much more fun than toys and books. Don't get me wrong, those get used too; they make for perfect flying saucers and obstacle courses.

I have a very good life but I am not perfect (take a moment to come to grips with this new knowledge). I'm learning, as days go by, what works for 97% of the motherhood population just doesn't work for me. The problem isn't that we're different but that I'm trying to climb my mountain with someone else's boots on.

When I compare my house to others it's not just apples to oranges but gingerbread to play-dough. I have learned in the past but constantly forget that I am unique- just like everybody else! What works for that mom just isn't going to cut it for me and what I do may seem ridiculous to others but we all have our own methods of learning new tricks and mastering old ones.

Rhino is extremely obedient. He helps me the most but is also the one who makes no messes. He does his own thing most of the time and his main occupiers are the computer and his stick which he does nothing without. He is good to help but I struggle with making him do too much just because he will. It's good for him to learn but not good for him to responsible for natural disaster clean up all of the time. Tiger is the natural disaster. He touches nothing without leaving a mess to trace his steps but is also the least likely to help clean up. I have to prompt and shadow his every attempt; he is learning but it still takes a lot of time to clean up a small mess when there's a whole therapy lesson involved. Puppy is a lot like Rhino. She can help me out and enjoys being motherly but is also the first to notice what's fair and what's not. Again, it's OK for her to help and it's expected (I didn't make the mess either and we're all in this together)but I don't want to take advantage of her. Monkey is two. She makes messes like a two year old (a two year old enrolled as an apprentice to Tiger) and cleans like a two year old. She works but has her limits.

I know what I prefer and I also know what can I handle, even though sometimes I don't like to admit that I too have limitations. While I prefer organized and orderly, sometimes I just have to settle for almost- nearly- clean. Toys in the buckets, though not in the designated bucket clearly printed on the outside wall, is better than a toy-land battle field and shoes whose match can be found in the same part of the house still provides protection for the feet even though their is a nice box ready to keep them together at a moment's notice. Mr. Zookeeper has socks, even though he has to get them back from Tiger's laundry (which is more than likely already been dumped on the floor) and we may have to spend a few extra minutes (hours) scrubbing ketchup from the strangest places but at least nobody goes hungry.

A clean house is important to me. Teaching my kids to care about and work in their home is important to me. But more important to me is that I remember why I want a clean house. I don't just want the resell value of brick and mortar but a place where everyone belongs and memories are abundant. Good memories preferably but we take what we can get and make the best of it. I have found over the years that what works one day isn't always going to work in the future whether that be ten years or ten minutes. When juggling, you start with a few balls and then add to it. When you get a different ball thrown into the mix, you have to take the time to adjust and then find a strategy to juggle all of the balls together. It's all about rhythm and focus. I feel like I no sooner get a new ball tossed at me and then the hiccups show up as well so I just throw on my clown costume and try to go with it.

I have a poem I wrote that hangs largely in my family room with accompanying footprints of each of my kiddos(those ones were actually put there on purpose this time):

"Tiny feet kicked from within getting a start and so eager to begin.
Careful as the first step alarms then quickly they bring you to my waiting arms.
Together we walk towards the day when these same feet will carry you away.
Perhaps then my house will be shiny and neat but for now I'll spend my time with these tiny feet."

Time is something none of us can control; we can only do our best to control what we do with it. I want my children to learn how to work but I also want them to be kids and I don't want to miss their childhood because I was so worried about the dust collecting on the top shelf or having everything in it's place at all times. There is balance in all things and housework is just another trick that takes a lot of hard work and practice...

... now if I had some elephants and circus music maybe I could...