Friday, March 16, 2012

My House is a Mess. And I Don't Care.

I haven't posted in awhile. Being pregnant is a special kind of difficult. I knew this when we decided to have a second child. My first pregnancy was rather difficult, and that time I didn't have another child to worry about. I was able to sleep 18 hours a day the first time around. But this time my son actually expects me to be the same momma I've always been. It's a lot of extra pressure.

On top of that, my MS hasn't let up the same way it did the first time. When I was pregnant with my son I almost felt like my MS entirely went away. Aside from pregnancy ickiness, I felt better than I had in years. This time? Yeah, not so much. I am in just as much pain and have just as many issues as I did before.

Basically, all of this means that I am doing even less around the house than I used to. Look. My house is always messy. There is always clutter and toys strewn about the floor. And, really? I don't care.

I have a limited amount of energy. If I overdo it, I am left unable to move. This is my reality.

So I decide what I want to do. Do I want to clean up my house? Or would I rather make sure I have enough energy to get on the floor and play with my son? Do I want to put away toys? Or do I want to take my son to the park?

It's really an easy decision for me. I'd rather spend the energy I have being Momma. I really don't think that a perfectly put together house is as important as my child(ren) knowing I will always play with them or take them on small adventures.

I know I have limits and I know that my child(ren) will have different experiences because of my disabilities. But I do my best to limit how impacted they are.

Frankly, anyone who wants to judge my house can suck it. It's not dirty, it's not dangerous. It's messy and cluttered. But there's a really happy little boy who lives here, who asks his momma to come play blocks. And she goes to play blocks. The dishes can wait. Picking up toys can wait. Because he's only going to be 2 once. And I want to savor these days where he actually wants to play with me.


  1. My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?

    <3 <3 <3

    1. <3 <3 <3 exactly. If I died tomorrow I sure wouldn't be saying "I wish I'd done more housework...." So, whatever.