Where to Hide the Dust Bunnies?

We labor to make a house a home, then every time we're expecting visitors, we rush to turn it back into a house. ~Robert Brault

Why is it that when friends and family come over we feel the need to clean up our homes more than normal? Would it be that uncomfortable for others to see how you really live? Knowing that things aren't always perfectly placed, that maybe you don't always wash the dished in the sink right after using them and the coffee table in the living room usually has fingerprints all over it. Would they not be friends with you anymore?

Tonight my husband invited another couple that we are friends with over for a movie and some good conversation. We used to get together at least once a month but now we haven't seen them since May. They are recently engaged and I am looking forward to talking wedding talk.

When hubby came in and asked me if it was okay last night, I took a look around at my home that is disheveled from moving and not to mention that the actual housework has taken a back seat to moving as well. I looked at him mortified. Of course I would host but I needed the reassurance that they knew that we are moving and our home is a mess.

Why? We will still have a good time regardless of the way my home looks. They aren't going to pass judgment or think I am a bad housewife or mother because the place is unkempt a week before our move. They know I have three little boys yet when they come over after they are in bed, there are no signs that they live here other than the pictures on the walls.

How much of ourselves do we really hide from others? I have never been the neatest of people in my everyday life. I let the dinner dishes sit until morning and I don't always wipe the boys toothpaste from the sink before bed. I hardly worry about the fingerprints on the coffee table because the second I am done dusting I know they are going to put them right back. Not to mention that I am lucky if I run the vacuum once a week because my youngest is petrified of it. And the way I dress? I rarely get out of my sweats and tanks, I never wear makeup when I am home and my hair is rarely blown straight. Normally it is up in a sloppy ponytail.

So why, when I know I have company coming I go into overdrive making sure nothing is out of place? It's as if a rush comes over me and I am racing the clock to make sure that everything is perfect including my appearance before they knock on the door? What if we had surprise visitors? Would I let them in? What would they think? Of course I would invite them in and apologize for the mess. I know they would understand with the knowledge that I have three small boys and a ton of work to do.

So why am I freaking out about tonight?!? No. I refuse to let this control me. I am going to take my time with my cleaning today. If I don't get everything done, so be it. I will make myself up and make sure the area where we will be hanging out is taken care of and be a good hostess as usual. But, I am not going to hide that I can't be organized during a move. It is impossible for me to do so and I don't need to feel more anxiety than this move has already given me.

Where to Hide the Dust Bunnies?

Moving On But Not Letting Go

"It's surprising how much memory is built around things unnoticed at the time." ~Barbara Kingsolver

Little tics on the walls showing my boys how much they have grown over the past years. Pen and pencil marks outline their latest artwork even if they weren't supposed to write on them. Little fingerprints that have smudged after time and time of them holding on when learning how to walk or running down the halls. All of this being left behind in a week. Ready to be painted over in antique white. Erasing my children's memory so a new family can create their own.

Moving can be so difficult. The memories that you captured in a place are reason enough not to want to leave. Then theirs the actual packing. Picking and choosing the things that you will take with you. Leaving behind with those marks on the walls other material items that also hold some form of memory.

The crib that all three of my children slept in for 2 years of their live and has comforted my children where they enjoyed many good dreams will now be left behind. For Alex is no longer a baby and with this move, he will acquire a big boy bed. A new beginning for himself. The pack and play that has sat in my living room for 6 years will also not be coming with us. Now that Alex will have a big boy bed, he no longer will lay in there until he goes to sleep at night keeping my husband and myself company until he is fast asleep and moved to his crib. The baby clothes that started with my oldest 6 years ago and still have the smell of all three of them will now be donated for other little boys that are less fortunate than us. The toys that used to annoy me with how loud they were will also be donated leaving us with the quieter toys meant for older children.

I keep trying to think of how much nicer it will be to have a fresh start. My older two are excited because they will be getting bunk beds. Their room will be new and exciting. My little one will finally have a room he could play in. He will have a place to grow and learn. My husband and I will have a bedroom that we could go into and enjoy each others company without the clutter that we have acquired. No more disciplining the children for running on the floors so they don't upset the downstairs neighbors.

But what about the memories. Yes we carry them with us in our hearts but the daily reminders; the touch, the smells...these things we will be leaving behind. I feel I am letting go of my babies and have to accept that they are growing boys. I'm not sure I am ready to let them go. So, although I am going to be removing the crib, the play pen, the old clothes and the tic marks on the wall; I am also going to pack up their baby blankets, the ones that soothed them when they were babies. The hats they wore home from the hospital. I will take a picture of their growth chart and artwork on the walls. I am going to hold onto these things so when I feel the need to revisit this time, this home.... It will be in the new place waiting for me to remember.

Moving On But Not Letting Go