It is always easy to remember that today, the day after Christmas, is my little sister Stalee's birthday. She came home from the hospital, all those years ago, wrapped in a little stocking. She was and still is one of the best Christmas gifts ever. I love Stalee.
I put my feet up by the fire this afternoon, just thinking over my day. The skies were clear outside, and although everything looked sort of dead and winterish, I could tell that it was warming up nicely. After cleaning hard all morning, and throwing out more bags of trash than is socially acceptable (and they are all stacked embarrassingly at the road for all the neighbors to see!), I decided that someone around here should change out of their pajamas and head to the grocery store.
I supposed that should be me.
I told the family over dinner last night that if we could remove 100 trash bags of stuff from our house, I would take them all to Disneyland. They all stopped mid-bite. And then the negotiations started, and even Greg said 100 bags was unthinkable. I guess I was ready to get rid of everything in this whole house. And we have a very clean, orderly house to begin with.
Something about Christmas makes me want to clean! So, the girls and I loaded seven garbage bags full of stuff from our upstairs homework nook. We threw out so much. I just kept saying to the girls, "When in doubt, throw it out." In the end, we had cleared out all of the cupboards and drawers. Then Emma started to set up her Cricut and crafting area. It is so beautiful to see that area so empty and clean.
Greg tried sending a few texts to me, but I was unresponsive. I was here working up a storm, throwing things out and such. He finally texted again, wondering where I was. He told me that he was getting so excited for our overnighter tomorrow night, and he'd hoped I was thinking of him, too. So, I finally sat down and texted him back. I knew he'd be happy to hear what I'd been up to, because nothing makes that man happier than the words, "Spring Cleaning."
I still think 100 bags is doable.
When Greg and I were first married, he woke up every single Saturday and wanted to "spring clean." We lived in a tiny apartment. We hardly had any stuff! I wanted to go do something fun or adventurous and it was a cause of major strife between us to realize that we had very different views for our free time. Everyone else would say, Oh, you are so lucky to have a husband like that. And I would think, How much spring cleaning can we do? I'm so bored of spring cleaning, I could die!
I've long since learned that you have to plan way ahead for Greg. If he wakes up without plans, then you can count on that he is planning to spring clean. And I DO love it. He keeps a more orderly office and closet than anyone I know. He is a master at organizing and cataloguing things. He organizes things I didn't even want organized! Greg loves a good project. And once he gets going, there is no stopping him. He is always, always proud of me for doing the same. Don't get me wrong, I have fantasies of opening the toy closets and finding them perfectly ordered. So, I love order as well as anyone. But there are many other things I'd like to spend my time on. And truthfully, I don't enjoy those types of "projects."
But today, I'm feeling it. So, I went around putting things away, throwing things away, and planning and scheming about what else I can get rid of.
I just read back over that sentence and it sounds so gluttonous. Like, Oh, we have SO much, that I just want to throw all of our stuff away. Blah, blah blah.
But it's not like that at all. Part of the problem is that we have eight people living here. And enough papers, school projects, gifts, clothing items and shoes come through our doors that we eventually need to decide how to eliminate some of it. A lot comes in. So a lot needs to go out. It's just the facts of life.
Well, I grilled up some hamburgers for dinner and then bathed Lance, fed him some more, and set him down in my bed for a little show. I decided I was trying a completely different tactic tonight. And I'm pleased to say it seemed to work. He went to bed pretty easily tonight. But only after I sang him my favorite Primary song. I always seem to come back to it when I'm singing to my boys. It says,
Whenever I hear the song of a bird, or look at the blue, blue sky,
Whenever I feel the rain on my face, or the wind as it rushes by,
Whenever I touch a velvet rose, or walk by our lilac tree,
I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world,
Heavenly Father created for me.
It goes on to the second verse and then ends with, Of all His creations of which I'm apart, Yes, I know Heavenly Father loves me.
I think I love that song so much because it really speaks to my heart. I do look around at this beautiful world and feel my Father in Heaven's love. Every day. In every way.
So, I quietly sing and hum that song at bedtime. And I feel loved.
No comments:
Post a Comment