Our house, in the middle of our street, was looking like it had been run-through with a city bus. It was showing the sings of a man alone, but for two small children, for way too long.
It reflected upon my biggest struggle since staying home- trying to balance my time between the boys, my work, and the runnings of said home.
I put in about 7 hours a day for FameCrawler. Sometimes more. It should, and would, be only 4ish, except that my hours are seldom without interruption. There are the cries of boys, either for food or relief, always for attention. There is a yard to be tilled and pets to attend. There is housework.
I am a tidy guy, but I am also easily distracted, often lazy and quick to retreat when it comes to the keeping of the house. It will sit for days, buried under piles of clean clothes left unfolded, dirty dishes left unwashed and a layer of fur lining the stain-covered carpet. It overwhelms me.
The last couple of days I’ve been able to stay on top of it. Tricia helped by knocking the piles down to their foundations. I would like to say that nothing ever slows her down and a mess is not allowed, but she’s as guilty as I am- only she’s not here enough to fear it’s presence.
Since then I have been running a little something that I like to call preventive maintenance. When I use a dish, I wash it. When I launder clothes, I fold them. When the dogs go outside, I vacuum. The stains are beyond repair.
There is a lot to this working from home. The least of which, it seems, is actually working.
The boys need more from me and this house, and that is why I need to keep it in check. That is why I need to balance my work with their play. Years from now, I want them to:
remember way back then, when everything was true and when-
we would have such a very good time,
such a fine time, such a happy time-
and remember how we’d play, simply waste the day away,
then they’d say nothing would come
between us two dreamers…
Is that so wrong?
Our house, it’s our castle and our keep.