Noticed some things in the house today that I think my friends who knew me pre-Paco would find weird. You see, I have a reputation... a good one (if I may say) that some may consider borderline crazy. I was clean and organized... I still am...but Iwas VERY clean and organized. A hybrid of Monica Geller for cleanliness and Sheldon Cooper for organization. I hope you're old enough to recognize my reference to Friends and geeky-witty to know The Big Bang Theory to get what I'm saying.
Anyhow, during my un-princessification years, I rented a small condo unit and lived on my own. It was tough especially for someone who never really did chores and had a yaya clean up after her all the time. But I kept that unit spotless and cleaned my bathroom with a toothbrush -- yes, literally with a toothbrush. I had the best cleaning products and my weekends were well spent cleaning, studying (I was taking my masters then), drinking, and cleaning... and drinking. I was a neat freak...and an alcoholic. But take note of the was a neat freak. The alcoholic part is a different story. Let's not wander into my love for alcohol just yet and let me get back to my point. I still have a penchant for cleanliness and order BUT I'm not as bad anymore. **I can so see my friends rolling their eyes.** But, really!
There's a green alien sticker on my bathroom wall (that I've been dying to remove) and I've been taking showers with this 4-legged monster for the past 7 months now!!! Hah! Bet that shut you up.
It's actually 7 months and 3 weeks but who's counting.
Wait... there's more.
I would never, in my wildest dreams, think of suction-cup-mounting stuffed Mike Wazowski and Sully toys on my bathroom mirror to make toothbrush time more entertaining. Never thought I'd add a child-sized lime green chair as an accent to my mocha and burgundy living room just because that was Paco's favourite colour. He now likes red. Red would've worked. Drat. I never had to check my bed for rockets or toy planes or robots before, but I diligently do that now if I don't want nasty back bruises or worse, a toddler crying over a broken toy. My son rarely leaves them on my bed now but you can never be too careful.
My point is, motherhood changes you. DUH! Well, it does. It makes you less critical and more forgiving. There will be times when you can't make the bed and you have to leave the house with some dirty dishes in the sink. I've learned to let go and accept that I can't do everything no matter how early I wake up or how fast I move.
Being a parent liberates you from self-imposed standards of order. Things spill. And they stain. Yup, they stain.
Sigh.
I still dream of stylish cream-colored couches and a real coffee table -- the one with the dangerous pointed edges. And glass. And ceramic. And crystal. Oh, how I miss having things that break! But for now, dark chocolate brown in not-so-absorbent fabric would do. In fact, my child-proofed table of framed photos look extra nice with Bumblebee and Megatron and the occasional lego rocket ship.But hey, I'm not complaining.
I would never choose a clutter-free house over my brown-burgundy-and-lime-green-coloured, alien-infested home filled with Paco's laughter, hugs and kisses. In fact, I embrace the new me and I like the new look I have for my home -- I call it shabby, messy, chic. It can be a bit messy but messy means I'm a mommy to a wonderful playful little boy. And that, my friends, makes me very very happy.
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