The morning alarm goes off by 4 in the morning. I snooze it for another 15 minutes before I open my eyes, not yet ready to get up from the bed until I realize it’s almost 5:00 A.M. I jump out from the bed, willing my body to move faster so that the day’s work gets over before the maid comes.
As I come out of my room and gets myself a glass of water to start my day, the house looks earthquake hit. There is not a single place, let alone any corner, that is free of toys. The cycle is parked in the middle of the living room while the jeep is parked in between the kitchen and the dining room. Oh, and the balance bike is in the guest room. The t-shirt that the little one wore yesterday is lying down near the bed while the shorts is in the toilet. As I walk to the kitchen, the mopping towel is on the floor and I realize that the little one peed on his shorts that is now in the toilet and the daddy wiped the floor but forgot to hang the cloth back, instead leaving it there itself. I see a few chocolate wrappers on the sofa and I wonder how since it wasn’t there when I went to sleep? And then I remember. The little boy refused to sleep and in the process of making him sleep, I had slept off. After which, daddy and son seemed to have had their time together sharing chocolates which Amma would have otherwise restricted.
I do a quick cleanup before I start preparing breakfast and lunch, this time making a mess in the kitchen. The maid comes and just as she was about to finish the cleaning, the little boy gets up. As the maid leaves, I see the toys that I cleaned up and organized just a few hours before coming out again. As I run behind the little one, I see the laundry bag piled up to the brim and the washed and dried clothes yet to be folded. I sigh (there’s nothing better that I can do!) and divert my attention back to the little one. It’s time for him to get ready for school. Once he is done with his potty and bath, it is time for breakfast and the little one is seated on his high chair for breakfast. As he starts to have his breakfast, I go for a quick shower and get myself ready.
By the time I am ready, I check the clock only to realize that we are running late. I rush to the dining room to see the little boy playing with his food, water all over his food tray and he playing splish splash with the water with food mixed in it. I do not have time to clean it. I keep aside the tray, wash the little boy’s hands and face, change the dress and we leave home.
I come back home after dropping him at school and realize the house is back to being a mess – toys on the floor (again!), food particles all over the high chair and even water on the floor. I sigh yet again, but I really do not have the energy to clean up just then. I sit down with my breakfast, taking a long breath before yet another long day starts. I check my Whatsapp and Facebook while I have my breakfast and get lost in it. By the time I come back to my senses, almost an hour has passed. The cleaning up has to wait, as I need to sit down for work, if I have to keep up with deadlines. A couple of hours later, it’s time to pick up the little one and I head to his school. We come back from the school and the little boy runs ahead to play with the toys (read: picking the remaining toys from the organizer and throwing it down). After much coaxing, begging and pleading, he finally agrees to sleep for a while and I realize the bed is not done. I try to do the bed with one little boy jumping on the bed and finally I make him sleep.
I am too tired by then but I have work to finish. I get back to my laptop and tries to finish whatever is pending before the little boy wakes up. Two hours later, a tiny face peeks at me from the bedroom and the little one is awake. I do not want the house to be any messier (though it couldn’t get any worse but I don’t want to try my luck!) and I take him to the park and come back just in time to prepare dinner. I am way too tired after that to clean the house and want to hit the bed, only to realize that there is still that pile of laundry waiting to be done! I keep it for the next day and I dose off.
Yet another day starts and the same story continues. I dream of a neat and tidy, organized house, but two years into motherhood, with an active little boy, all that I care about now is getting hot food on the dining table on time, fresh clothes to wear and having fun with the little one. I cringe when I get a call from friends/relatives informing us that they are coming home in sometime or worse, when we have a surprise visitor because the first thing that I think of is how to clear the mess. I panic and then I try to do a marathon cleanup, only to mumble a few words of useless excuses to the guests for the messy house that comes out as a greeting instead of a hello. There are times when I get suffocated with the mess, there are times I just want to run away from the mess and there are times when everything becomes too overwhelming for me. Though I would prefer it otherwise, I’m almost certain that the story is going to be same for a few more years (I hope to get it sorted by then. Hopefully!).
But, to think of it, maybe I am ok with it. Or maybe I have come to terms with it. Because deep down, I’ll rather use that time to spend with my family and myself than being overwhelmed by the mess and desperately trying to clean up every half an hour, leaving me with no time to enjoy the beauty of life that is in front of me. It may not be a perfect justification, but that is the only consolation a messy mother like me has!