A Place of Comfort

There’s a camo blanket trimmed in orange on my nursery floor and a camo lawn chair also trimmed in orange next to my rocking chair. These shades of my husband’s favorite hobby clash terribly with the aqua and white decor. There’s a black pack-n-play living corner to corner with the lovely wooden crib, and the gray floor has perpetually hosted milk splatters for the last year and a half. 

The downstairs of my house is not much better–yesterday I realized that my flashcards from a distant chemistry class were scattered across the kitchen floor, an empty check book languished amidst the rubbish, and random baby toys and papers filled in the empty cracks… and I wasn’t at all surprised by this state of affairs–in fact, it seemed perfectly normal. And maybe it was just as well that the kitchen floor was invisible–because I don’t know when it had last been washed. 

Baskets of dirty laundry often sit on the floor for little hands to strew about, while baskets of folded laundry hang out up high, on the couch or table. Today, I saw Ellie walking around with a basket on her head and then taking it off to basket her brother. I stopped to laugh at her, despite the fact that the basket was supposed to hold baby shoes–shoes now dumped topsy-turvy beside the changing table.

Sometimes I feel guilty because my house wouldn’t look good on a magazine page. Sometimes (like yesterday) I think that I must get on top of things. I must become the housewife I have never been. I determine to walk around the house and make a list of all that must happen to turn my house into one of those houses where the Put-Together-Housewives live, the housewives that don’t have any secrets lurking under desk lids and behind closed doors, those that don’t have camo blankets in their aqua nurseries.

And then sometimes (like today) I remember.

The camo chair in my nursery is where my husband sits when he helps me put the babies to bed. He carried his camo blanket into the room one night when he slept on the nursery floor next to the baby who needed a parent nearby. And I am so blessed to have a black pack-n-play near the crib we bought when we thought we were only having one baby… because I have two beautiful, healthy toddlers, both needing a place to sleep, and there is no room for another crib in the nursery. When the kitchen looks like a tornado hit, that’s because my toddlers are exploring and growing and learning so much. Baskets on the head bring comic relief, and empty laundry baskets on the floor lead to games of peekaboo and one of the sweetest sounds this mommy has ever heard–peals and peals of baby laughter, his little-boy chuckle and her little-girl giggle…

And if I am sitting outside with my feet in a kiddie pool, watching my babies splash and play, feeding them popsicles and reading a book–instead of cleaning out the room with the closed door–well maybe that’s okay.

Because my house is not a house where a Put-Together-Housekeeper lives. No. My house is home to two healthy, beautiful toddlers; a husband who doesn’t notice whether the kitchen floor is washed or not; and me, the housekeeper who wants to keep home a place of comfort. A place where camo blankets and toddlers are as welcome as a popsicle on a hot afternoon in June.

This Post Has 7 Comments

  1. Loved this, Alison! And I wanted to say that despite being too shy to talk to you at WAC, I was very happy to see you there.

    1. Being shy myself, I understand, but I would also have loved if you had said hi! 🙂

  2. This was beautiful to read!!

  3. So heart warming! 🩷 You are valuing The Right Things and I bless you for it.

    1. Thank you. <3

  4. You do know how to warm a grandpa’s heart! Thanks for sharing again!

    Dale Stoltzfus

  5. Your choices of focusing on the important things(people) in life are an example to me! And their giggles are most delightful to this auntie too! 😉

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