So, summer has begun at the Haverkamp house, but I am having trouble adjusting to the change.
Change is always hard for me—even good change.
I’m pretty sure it’s all about order and control. I am very orderly, and for some reason, an orderly, clean house makes me feels as if all is right with the world—which is why, when I had little kids, I always felt as if my world was spinning wildly. Now, with older kids—even older messy kids—I have some sense of peace because I am not constantly corralling toys and books and clothing strewn about my floor. I can actually keep kind of a clean, orderly house—WHEN THE KIDS ARE IN SCHOOL. Now that the kids are out of school—which I actually love—and Luke is home for the summer—which is wonderful—I am having trouble with the extra evidences of people mess—you know what I mean; dishes in the sink, grass on the floor, string cheese wrappers in the couch cushions—that kind of thing. I am trying to tell myself that it is OK to have little messes once in awhile. And the kids are really helpful if I tell them EXACTLY WHAT TO DO. But messes of this sort MAKE ME NERVOUS. AND CRABBY.
Now that I have confessed my ungrateful attitude, I am trying to relax a little and give up some control. I’m not sure where I got the notion that everything has to be perfect all the time, but this perfectionistic concept really only applies to the main part of my house; my sewing room, my basement, and my car are usually a mess—and my purse is really a disaster. Those things don’t bother me. Weird. I guess it’s because I know those messes are contained. I can handle contained messes. It’s just those growing messes that scare me—like the Spanish Bible and the Debbie Bliss Baby Knits book in the office…and the one severed bud of an Ipod ear buds set laying on the desk in the kitchen…or the Jumbo playing cards blown all over the porch…and the accidently frozen, now blown out metal water bottle on the counter sitting by the recently used New Skin that was used to arrest the newly discovered poison ivy.
What if all of these small things keep building and never get put away? What if I become a hoarder by default because of the messiness of my kids? What if my house starts to look like my purse?
Wow. This is all a little too much for me to ponder, and I think I may be having some palpitations, so I better stop obsessing and go to bed. and dream about tomorrow. because tomorrow is cleaning day. and after that, all will be well with my world. For about 1 hour or so.
So be it. Messes will happen. My world will not fall apart because of them. And God is still in control, I’m not. Even though I’d like to be. sometimes.
I think Heaven will be clean. and happy.
But everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.
I Corinthians 14:40
(See? It’s scriptural)