My inlaws were here for the week.
A lot has changed in my life since the last time they were here and my mother-in-law noticed and commented.
A recipe fell behind the fridge and I said, "Well, I'll get it later. I need to clean under there anyway.
I don't use cloth napkins anymore. (I vowed I'd never use paper. O foolish vow.)
The floor considers itself quite lucky if it gets swept once a day instead of every time a crumb falls.
Is it that I don't care? No. . . not at all. I do still care about those things. I still love a clean house. I love making our home special. That's why I hung on to the stupid cloth napkin concept for so long. One day last summer I just realized it was ridiculous and unreal to expect that kind of idealistic perfection. I packed them all away, not able to bring myself to actually trash my hard work. Maybe someday.
Someday there won't be little fingerprints all over the windows.
The refrigerator will be cleaned (and organized) on a weekly basis.
I'll have time to coordinate cloth napkins and table linens.
The floors probably won't even need to be swept.
No one will go potty on me while I'm trying to pack people up to get to a Financial Peace University class that I'm attending alone even though I wasn't the one who signed up for it. (Ok, that was venting.)
But for now, welcome to my real world. Not perfect, just real.