The past two weeks, every single day has been a marathon. I jet from one place / thing to the next. When I finally get home, my daughter asks me to sit with her on the couch. Once I sit, it’s done. There’s no more productivity because the momentum and fumes that had me going stop right there where my bum meets the cushion. The pics below are the current situation at my house. There was a time when I would have been frantic inside about this. I would literally say, “The world can fall down around me, but I’ll be ok as long as the house is clean.” Then the world did fall around me, and the house did nothing. Not one thing. So ladies, if I could give you one piece of advice, it would be to recognize that time with the people in your life is so much more important than a neurotically clean house. I promise that pile of dishes or laundry will still be there when you get to it. I can’t promise your people will be.
