a beautiful mess

I knew my little boys needed another story. It had been a long day, full of too many errands, not enough play and an unfortunate fight at bedtime. But darn it, I was going to get that kitchen clean. We’d just had a Relief Society Lesson on “a house of order” and I’d read one too many articles about the importance of “putting the kitchen to bed.” Leaving my seven-year-old to read picture books to his younger brothers, I stole downstairs to wash, wipe and sweep.

Just minutes into my routine, I heard yelling from upstairs, the sound of something hitting the floor, and a cry escalating into a wail. I entered the room to find the usual ruckus– one boy was turning the pages too fast, hitting ensued and the innocent third was knocked onto the floor.  As I wiped tears and settled little ones back into their beds, I grumbled, “It would be nice if you get  along for a few minutes so I could get the kitchen clean.”

“Why?” an innocent voice piped up, “We’re just going to mess it up again in the morning.”

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Every January brings an onslaught of organizational articles and tips on decluttering, but it feels worse this year. Every time I see a young mom Instagramming her goal to “rid my house of everything that doesn’t bring me joy” I want to yell, “STOP!” For children, magic hides in a bin of jumbled Legos, an old wood pile, a craftbox full of styrofoam, broken crayons and glue sticks, in a kitchen where they can create new recipes, cut out paper shapes and roll Playdoh on the counter. Childhood isn’t tidy; it isn’t meant to be.

In her defense, Marie Kondo, the author of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up  makes it clear that her advice is for individuals. We should never throw away other’s belongings or impose our standard of cleanliness. But like everything else on the planet, women, and especially Mormon women, can take anything good and create an impossibly high standard for themselves. Too often we derive our self-worth from our external surroundings, when so many things– illness, injury, work schedules, children– are beyond our control.

After my ‘aha’ moment with my children, I started seeking out different voices. We’ve all heard the adage “I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep” and you’re probably familiar with the comparison of building a family to a construction zone– it’s messy in here! But I wanted some practical advice to balance my desire for a clean house with the chaos of a growing family.

Julie taught me the principle of  ‘purposeful neglect’– making a conscious decision to ignore the garage, the basement, my dirty car, or whatever I needed to completely take off my plate. I don’t feel guilty when I look at our playroom; I’m purposely neglecting the mess.

From Becky I learned to clean only with my children around.* Too many moms use up precious minutes and hours when their children are asleep or at school to scrub the floor. Cleaning with our children teaches them skills and when they see the work we do, they are less likely to complain about unloading the dishwasher or vacuuming the floor. I’m not saying they get excited about cleaning the bathrooms on Saturday morning, but at least they don’t think a good fairy polishes everything while they sleep.

One of the best tips came from a woman with 11 children with an extraordinarily tidy home. She told me, “Oh, you can’t have a clean house now honey. Wait until all your kids grow up and move out.” Did I mention she has ELEVEN children? At the absolute minimum she had thirty years of childrearing before her storage room was clean.

Like you, I’ve been in homes where the family has been trained (usually by the mom, but I can name more than one dad) to maintain absolute cleanliness. No one leaves socks on the family room floor, a child wouldn’t dream of getting a cup of milk without washing the glass and putting it away. And while I’m sure those families achieve that ideal with kindness and love, I know I couldn’t do it without a whole lot of screaming.

Perhaps now I’m coming to the main point– our families are unique with different needs and personalities. No book or method offers a one size fits all solution. I’m a recovering perfectionist trying to minimize the OCD tendencies of two of my children while not fighting with my husband who truly doesn’t see dirt or kill the spirit of my son who invents something new every week** and absolutely must leave everything he owns on the floor.

For us, our comfortably messy house incubates creativity, acceptance, really good cooking, laughter and love. Even now, sixteen years after my ‘aha’ moment, I feel slightly victorious every night when I go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink, crumbs on the floor. That mess, and more, will wait til morning. And I need my sleep.

*admittedly, I could do a lot better at this. I just love cleaning the house when (almost) everyone leaves for work and school.

**check out instructables.com