Still snowing...

I finally made a chore chart for myself.  Don't worry--each day has no more than 3 chores on it, although we all know that I do so much more than what makes it to my list.  This is the first week I've been using the chart, so I've been trying extra hard to keep up with all of the daily stuff that needs to happen, like washing dishes, and wiping down countertops, and cleaning up clutter, oh, yeah, and feeding and clothing and bathing the children, in addition to my 3 "extra" chore chart tasks, which are really not extra at all. 

I have to tell you.  I am not cut out for housework.  Seriously.  I'm exhausted.  Now that may have a little something to do with parenting solo this week, but I'm pretty sure it's just because I'm trying to keep up with the housework.

And then yesterday, this happened.

The picture really doesn't do it justice--it was like a stuffed animal factory exploded in there.  And before that there were glue sticks and paper scraps and foam shapes all over the kitchen.  And before that it was play-doh and cookie cutters and rolling pins on the table and floor in the dining room and before that it was costumes spread everywhere.

I saw this quote a few weeks ago, and it's really stuck with me:

Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing

is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing. 

~Phyllis Diller, Phyllis Diller's Housekeeping Hints, 1966

So true.  Unless we're feeling the need for some calming deep muscle input, we wait until it stops snowing to shovel.  Because it is pointless to shovel if snow is still falling. 

And do you know what we do while we're waiting for it to stop snowing?

We play.  We enjoy the snow.  We sled, we throw snowballs, we make snow angels and snowmen, we run around and fall down.  We stand with our arms outstretched, our faces lifted to the sky and our mouths wide open to catch the flakes as they fall.

My friends, I know that someday the snow will stop falling.  Someday my children will stop leaving their stuff everywhere.  Someday my dining table will be play-doh free and my living room will not look like an exploded stuffed animal factory.

What am I going to do while I'm waiting?

I will play.  I will enjoy the growing.  I will run and jump, I will squish play-doh, I will sit and crawl around on the floor, I will growl and dance and have parades.  I will race cars and play football, I will push swings.  I will stand in this place with my arms outstretched to embrace the messiness of life with children, with my heart wide open, with my face lifted toward the heavens so I don't miss the blessings as they fall.  Because this is holy: these children, this mess, this place in my life is holy.