One of THOSE Moments

I usually don’t mind drop-ins.  Mainly because it is almost always my friends, and they have lots of kids too and know that the house isn’t always perfect, though I usually try to keep it at least decent.

Today it looks like a bomb hit my house. Jacob was especially destructive, Emily starving, and the baby howling.  I had Emily make a couple of quick PB&J sandwiches, and managed to keep the baby happy while the kids ate a half-hearted lunch. I sent them off to quiet time and sank into my chair, baby in arms to nurse.

Wouldn’t you know it, as soon as the baby finishes eating, spits up on me as is his habbit, and I stand to go get something done, there comes a happy tapping on my door.  Uh-oh.  My friends don’t knock, they just walk in and announce themselves – that’s the way I like it.  Door salesmen knock, which are easy to get rid of, and old friends of my parents.

So, I open my door to find a very sweet lady who is the mom to one of my mom’s old piano students.  Me with toys flung far and wide, jam dripping off the counter and a half eaten PB&J sandwhich smashed into the table.  Me with spit-up stains all over my shirt, my hair disheveled, and clutter on the couches. Me with dishes in the sink, the art drawer open and masses of coloring books hanging out limply -loosing papers to the floor, and shoes boxes flung far and wide from kids playing with them. Why oh why can’t I have that kind of a drop in when my house, and myself for that matter, look good? Why just the other day the house was looking quite spic and span, and my hair was done, though I don’t think I ever appear without spit up on me these days. It was fun to see her, I remember her son quite well – he was very talented – but oh, how I wanted to hide as I invited her in while I found a pen and paper to write my parent’s adress on. 

There she stands patiently, as I frantically search for pen and paper, looking around. I am sure she is not thinking anything mean about how crazy the house looks right now, but I am SO embarrassed.  Then as I hand her the scrap of paper with the adress scibbled on it, Jacob starts banging on the wall – very loudly. “Um, that would be my son, the three old, who is SUPPOSED to be taking a nap.”

“Loud napper,” she chuckles.  I am sure she remembers the times when she had little tykes banging away, but I can’t help feeling moritfied.

Why does it matter that someone should see us at less than our best? Don’t we all have moments like this? I know we do. Maybe it was that I was thinking about how clean my Mom’s house was (I am the youngest, so she had no children at home when this lady’s son was taking lessons) when they would come for lessons, and how not clean it was today.

All I know is how horribly embarrassed I felt, and how the minute she left I wanted to clean from top to bottom, and then the baby started in to cry. And here I am pondering on why we worry so much about what others think, and typing it all with one hand.

 P.S. The repetition of “me with” is a literary device called ‘anaphora’ – I learned about it today in my online poetry class – I didn’t even realize I was using it, until I came back to edit something. How cool is that? 🙂 Well, baby appears to be happy, so off I go to get something done. 🙂

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7 Comments

Filed under Every Day Life, Humor, Writing

7 responses to “One of THOSE Moments

  1. Snoopy

    I can’t help but to smile as I think about what you do day in and day out. Not because I think it is funny that you go through all of this while as sit at work, but because of what an amazing and remarkable women you are. Some people would say, “No way am I putting up with this”, or “I only want one kid so I don’t have to deal with all the stuff that people with five kids have to”, or “Forget having kids, I want my life and my home perfect and all kids would do it mess it up”. But you grin and bear it and do a wonderful job as a mother and a wife. You even have a happy smiling face when I get home as though nothing like this happend throughout the day (most of the time). You just amaze me and I love you for it. Thank you for being home with the kids and for making the kids your priority rather than the house or other things.

    You are literally the greatest spouse and mother of my children that I could ask for.

    I Love You!

    Now everyone, see why I am still married to him after nearly ten years? – isn’t he the sweetest ever? 🙂 I love you too dear….. Ok, the rest of you can quit rolling your eyes at our sappy moment and post your comments now… 🙂 heh

  2. Awwww….how sweet! Aren’t you lucky?! I’m very guilty of feeling just like you described and I only have 2 kids! The only time “new” people ever come over here is when it looks like a tornado blew through here, too. And how come noone ever drops in when I have makeup on and have taken a shower?? Oh, well…guess we need to figure out a way to not let it bother us. Easier said than done, I know….

  3. I hear ya! I know exactly how you feel …. seems like the times when some visitors some calling is when our floors are filthy and when there are toys and stuff everywhere! Over the years I’ve come to not be so crazy about it, though … most of the time :). If I wanted to live in a perfectly clean, tidy-all-the-time house, I’d live in a museum, lol. Just keep in mind the people who are truly your friends and loved ones don’t care about any of that and come visit to see YOU, not inspect your house :).

  4. That has happened to me way more times than I am willing to admit. The worst was when I had a friend passing through the area, not call, and me with the flu. I had been down for three days. I am sure you can imagine how horrid my front room looked!

  5. This has happened to me so many times! It is the worst feeling ever. It’s almost like someone catching you naked. And I sit here and type this with my counters covered in dishes. We can’t do it all sometimes. I’ve actually not answered my door before because my house was in chaos. I too wonder why we worry what others think. I know that if I were to show up at someone’s house and it was a mess I wouldn’t even look twice, but that’s because I know exactly what it feels like. I’m sure she didn’t even think twice about what your home looked like.

  6. I’ve had that happen so many times too! Last year the bishop and his family decided to show up unannounced within a few weeks of us moving here, and RIGHT in the middle of us painting. Seriously, the house was a MASSIVE wreck. And they wanted a tour. I was *SO* crazy embarrassed!!!
    Not that that’s the only time that has happened. It seems like whenever my house gets its messiest, someone is bound to come!

  7. Mom

    Paul is right, of course, & I’ll agree with him–even his use of the plural “what an amazing & remarkable women you are.” All good moms have to be a compound of many types of women rolled into one, not just double-tasking, but sometimes doing 5 or 6 things at a time. It is not surprising that things now & then get out of hand, or just plain get pushed down the priority list a ways. I remember one time when you were a baby, Julia, and our laundry and house had gotten way behind so I declared a catch-up day and had your 4 siblings all busily involved helping to clean & sort closets and fold laundry in the living room. Through the piles of stuff I noticed through the front window, an expensive car pull up. The car door opened, and out stepped an older couple that my husband had professional dealings with, and I had always felt it very important to present our best image. There was nothing that could be done but to invite them in and clear a spot for them to sit down. I think I died a thousand deaths that day, but from this vantage point, it seems more unimportant. This couple had never had children, and had missed all the joys, as well as the frustrations of parenthood. If they couldn’t understand, too bad–Actually, they were very gracious and even invited us to their “cabin” for dinner after that. Sometimes, the most gallant moments of parenthood are just coping with the situation at hand in the best–or only–way possible. By the way, was that Elizabeth G. at the door? Love you, Mom

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