Lately, I’ve struggled with keeping our house tidy. Of course, I’m a mom of four, so my typical day involves cleaning like it involves breathing. Now I’m sure you can imagine me in my palace, all shiny and clean, but the reality is, my home is comfortably messy, and occasionally, a disaster, despite my constant fussing.
But I find summer particularly difficult with our living area expanded out of doors. Add in two weeks of travel and some camping, luggage and laundry, a house full of people who are ALWAYS HOME, and we’ve got ourselves a good ole mess.
So on Saturday, I woke up and said “ENOUGH!”
And we went to the fair. Because life it too short to live in a house that is clean and messy and then cleaned up again, and then messy, and then cleaned again before bed only to wake in the morning to find it messy….seriously how does that happen?
We explored the fair grounds, rode some rides, including the giant slide that I never would have set foot upon without Sparrow’s plea for “more more, ya, ya, dis!” as he gestured excitedly to the rickety looking structure. So I complied. What could go wrong?!
Well, I could barely squeeze up the ladder, since it was built to accommodate small children, who are perhaps, underfed. Sparrow sensed my uneasiness. He gave me a good pat on the back as I carried him to the top and kissed me repeatedly. Upon our arrival at the top of Mecca, the other two kiddos hopped immediately into place on their felt mats while I wiggled and squished and swapped my toddler from right arm to left, trying to squeeze my mum sized bum into its rightful place at the top of the slide only to realize that I had somehow managed to entirely miss the felt mat. So while people stared up at us from below, I lifted myself up, all while holding a small human and proceeded to stuff the blanket under my backside with one hand, without slipping down the slide.
When I was finished, it was like I was sitting on a giant raisin. But I rode that slide. I rode it over the two bumps, trying not to let on like I was scared, since my five year old seemed to be rocking it. I tried reducing my death grip on my toddler to a level that allowed him to breathe, and then just as quickly as it began, we arrived at the bottom on our raisin, slid onto the felt mat at the bottom that was meant to stop us, but somehow, the raisin had moved from under the seat of my pants, to somewhere under my upper thighs, and I received some pretty decent carpet burn on my butt. I also had to check to make sure my pants were still intact, which, thankfully (seriously-thank- you- pants!!) they were. Sparrow was overjoyed, so I marked it down as a win-ish.
And then we rode/exploited a camel.
Explored the exhibits
Played a game…and brought home more crap to leave around the house.
But we were tired, and we were happy, and I didn’t really care that we were contributing to consumerism and all of the other things I work hard to avoid on a regular basis.
When we arrived home, the house was still clean. The kids were happy. I was happy. And life was good.