My problem is this, I love my family, I love my husband, my house, my everything, except my chores! I mean REALLY how many sippy cups does the average child use, and seriously I think my toddler may be trying to go potty standing up, she has taken on this “Jacob” persona, I have just never seen a little girl make such a mess in the bathroom, and yes folks, I’m talking about pee! The whole “Jacob” persona is a topic for another post, today I just want to rant about how much I hate my chores and about how hating my chores has changed my life.

I’m really hoping that someone out there can agree that it is seriously so frustrating, and just never ending, especially with kids and dogs. Sometimes I stand at the kitchen sink and think to myself, “I was gonna be a travel writer, writing amazing articles for National Geographic, but this… this rotten milk… this curdled rotten milk is fun and fulfilling too.” Sometimes these pity parties end with me crying, or putting on my “cranky” pants, but the other day something profound happened, and I just feel so blessed by the experience that I have to share it.

After the morning agony of getting Madi ready for school and fighting my toddler, Lilly - who insists on being called Jacob - I’m standing in the hallway, looking at the mess of shoes, and coats, and books, and tissues (I really do clean every day, these kids just keep me on my toes) and this tornado of a mess has happened in the last 30 minutes. I begrudgingly pick up everything and start tossing (okay I threw a few things) into different rooms. I then get to my bedroom and see a huge pile of dirty laundry, a bad word or two or… okay five, slip through my lips as I somehow lift it all (it doesn’t occur to me to actually put it in the hamper two feet away) and carry it to the laundry room, items fall to the floor, giving me one more opportunity to get well, pissed.

It was as I was picking up a pair of my husband’s boxer shorts that it hit me, what if I didn’t have these boxers to pick up? Not because of having my sought after sister-wife, but what if I didn’t have a husband to clean up after? What if tomorrow he wasn’t here? What if tomorrow instead of picking up his boxers I was picking up flowers for his grave? So yeah, I was crying, and then my mind went to my girls. None of us think it will ever happen to US, but we all know someone who has experienced the worst of the worst and lost a child… how dare I ever, EVER become upset about picking up their dirty clothes, their toys, their books, how dare I ever get upset that I get to be a part of their life. Andthat is what I’m focusing on now, I GET TO be here. Not an ‘I have to do this and that’, but ‘I GET to’. I’m not saying it isn’t frustrating and monotonous, I’m just saying what if tomorrow we only had the things we thanked God for today?

Now this isn’t to say that I will allow my family to be slobs, this is to say – none of us are guaranteed 24 hours, I have a bucket list a mile long, but I’m now moving “Loving and treasuring my family and friends” to the top.