This Isn’t Your Disney. It’s Ours.
As I was standing in the shower this evening, winning numerous imaginary arguments, a thought passed through my mind.
A year ago, I met with someone who referred to my home as “Disney”. As much as I’d like to tell myself this was a term of endearment, the phrase was thrown up with “air quotations” which is pretty much the universal sign of sarcasm. I softly heard my mother inside, “Jessi, if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all.”
If I had a thought bubble above my head, it would have said, “Yeah maybe this person could use some lessons.”
The conversation ended and I went on my not so merry way and questioned the way I run my house.
Am I doing something wrong?
Why would someone say something like that?
Maybe they think my home really is the most magical place on earth…
HAHAHA Good one Jess! I just gave myself an imaginary pat on the back – although my maturity level just dropped 3 points.
You see, in reality here’s what happened later that day. I went to my mom’s, I cried while asking myself what I was doing wrong. I let that person take a few hours away from me that I will never get back.
My mother, being the angel that she so effortlessly is, talked me right out of that moment and I got it together. I didn’t get it together in the, “I need this person to think I’m perfect kind of way”, but in the, “I know my kids and my husband better than anyone on this planet and I run my house accordingly”, kind of way.
Everyday I wake up with the intention of being the best mother/wife I can be. Some days I binge on Netflix, order take out, and play on my phone. Other days, I have dinner in the crockpot by nine, the house clean by noon, and the alphabet song sang a dozen times. I am not perfect nor do I try to be.
One thing I do not lack in, is the knack to read people. Being honest and critical with myself, and knowing when I need to adapt and make changes to things that may have worked yesterday but aren’t working today. My children’s needs will always come before my own and for someone to think that I lacked in that responsibility was a bit painful.
If Disney consists of a husband who forgets to take the trash out on trash day, a ten year old who rubbed boogers so far in the carpet beside his bed it took sandpaper to get them out. A seven year old who farts in public with no shame. A three year old who is already yelling at me to get out of her room and a twenty-nine year old mother who cautiously sorts through a stale pile of laundry for a pair of socks. Then yup it’s us.
One day, I am going to wake up on a beach in Florida sipping some lemonade enjoying my sweet retirement. My kids will be grown, and we will look back at these stories and laugh. I won’t have eighty piles of laundry to do, boogers to clean, or farts to run from(the fart one is debatable). What I will have is grown children who will remember that when something was broken their dad fixed it. When something needed cleaned their mom cleaned it. When accidents happened we worked them out, and when one of us needed extra love it was given.
This might not be your idea of the most magical place on earth……….but without a doubt, it is mine.
This is our Disney!