If cleanliness is next to Godliness.....

  If cleanliness is suppose be next to Godliness, then why does cleaning the house always make me want to shout words that most definitely would not please the Lord???? I am not a fan of cleaning. I hate it! I. HATE. IT.

   After Syd was born, several older, extremely wise moms said not to worry about having a perfectly clean house. The kids will only be this little for so long. You'll have plenty of time to clean and keep a perfect house when they grow up. Just focus on enjoying them.
    Well, that was the best darn advice that I had ever heard! If I weren't so afraid of needles, I'd get it tattooed on myself. If someone wrote a song about it, I would make it the theme song of my life. If I had to write it on a cake, it would be glorious chocolate cake with layers and layers of  buttercream and chocolate ganache and I would ignore the flour spilled on the floor while I made it. Who cares about a little flour, I'm too busy enjoying my babies. Well yeah, it's nap time so maybe I might have had time, but just be quiet! I can enjoy them from the couch as they sleep.
    As you can tell (sorry about the dramatics), I fully embraced it and it was working real well for me until........ *takes deep breath* A couple of months of ago we decided that we were going to put our house on the market. Every mom with small kids who just read this made the same face guys do when they see another guy get hit in the nuts on America's Funniest Home Videos. Yes, it really is THAT painful.
      I cleaned and I cleaned and I cleaned and I cleaned and I cleaned and I...... almost lost the will to live when I looked up saw the ceiling fans. Pretty sure that the last time I dusted them was when I was 9 months pregnant with Nathan and totally in the nesting phase. I know! How could I forget about them for so long especially since I have spent so much time looking up toward Heaven, praying for some sleep since that crazy kids was born!?! Well, the best explanation that I can come up with is that things don't look so bad when you never clean your glasses.
     After lots of blood, sweat, tears, Clorox wipes, screaming and gnashing of teeth, more sweat, not so nice words, maniacal laughter, and unnecessarily violent threats involving thing that aren't even physically possible, the house was finally CLEAN and not just my kind of clean, but CLEAN! I sat down and rejoiced as I admired my sparkly new kingdom. I conquered that dirty mountain! I started thinking about all the possibilities for my free time now that I was one of those moms.... I could have people over without needing excuses. My brain was receiving pure, dust free oxygen, I could probably master those things on Pinterest instead of having epic fails. Life was truly amazing for, I don't know, 20 minutes.
      And then I discovered something truly awful! Clothes were still getting dirty! Crumbs were sticking to my feet as I walked across the hardwood floors. The sink was filling up with dirty dishes every time I turned around. The house was getting dirty AGAIN!! It never ends! It doesn't matter how hard you work, something will always need to be done. It feels like you are a gerbil running on a wheel and getting nowhere.(The wheel is probably made of stainless steel too and you are smudging the crap outta it so grab some special spray and microfiber towel!!)
      Let's take a second to address the added bonus of having small children.Those bleepin stuffed animals must sneak in their friends late at night because the pile on the couch always came back and also bigger than ever.  Oh and I now feel like I am overly qualified for a job in a parade or circus, following behind the animals and scooping up poop. Maybe I should get into that but I should look into some anger management course. Probably should try to squeeze in some brownie detox therapy first! Don't judge me! Brownies are the only way to survive!!
     Thank goodness the Lord never gives you more than you can handle. Apparently, I can't handle very much! I only have to deal with one showing. We got an offer right away. There was much rejoicing! We could go back to living in filth.  Mama seriously needed to hop off that lemon scented train to Crazytown. I live close enough to it as it is!
    So umm hey, speaking of crazy, I guess that I kinda forgot to tell a lot of people that we moved! Congratulations, my loyal friend! You suffered through my ramblings and got to the important news. The rest of them are gonna feel real stupid when they show up for a play date at the wrong house!