This post is linked to Friday Fails, Hosted by My Blessed Life.
I have a friend from church, we’ll call her Michelle. ‘Cause that’s her name. Anyway. Michelle reads my blog, but she’d never been to my house. She’s always teasing me that she’s going to pop in someday and see if my bed is made. I laugh, but inside a small part of me starts to sweat every time she says that. She is the sweetest woman, and totally joking. But I still sweat.
This weekend, I hosted our women’s Bible study at my house. I signed up a month ago, and a month ago I swore to myself that I would make sure my bed was made that day so I could show Michelle. (Note: The moral of this story is going to be that you shouldn’t swear anything to anyone, including yourself.)
I went further. Not only would Michelle be able to see my bed, I would leave all my doors open when they all came over so I could be like one of those awesome women who gives tours of their home when visitors come. It should be noted that one of the women actually showed us her closet when we visited her house. It was immaculate.
I used to give tours of my little house, too. Then I got distracted by life and never quite caught up.
So. Saturday came. All visible areas were reasonably clean. The air was filled with the smell of bleach and furniture polish. My bed was indeed made. However, next to my bed was a laundry basket full of junk I hadn’t had time to put away. Next to that, I had shoved in our workboxes and racks to make room in my living room. We won’t even talk about the state of my nightstand.
My bedroom is directly off of my living room. No hallway barrier or anything. So, the door stayed closed. There’s only two other rooms in my house. Our girls’ bedrooms and what we call the game room. Friday afternoon, I made sure these rooms were clean so I could leave the doors open and not be ashamed. Saturday morning, that dream was gone. It happens so fast.
All morning, my worst fear was that someone was going to need to use our second bathroom, which is connected to our bedroom. I even considered saying it was broken because I was that scared of someone walking through my room. Too bad I can’t lie.
It’s not like we live in squalor. From what I’ve seen, our house is pretty typical for that of a homeschooling family with kids. Yet, somehow, despite the fact that I was raised by a mom who always said, ‘They’re coming to see us, not the house,’ I have set impossible standards for myself. I have come a long way in the last few years, because I realized that if I waited for my house to be perfect, I would never have company.
But still. I don’t want anyone to see my messiness. It’s like a secret sickness. I can talk about it and blog about it, but I don’t want you seeing it! I know, I know. It’s just clutter for goodness’ sakes! It’s not like I’m one of those people who is going to turn up on Oprah for the wretched state of my house.
Fortunately, the morning went by without anyone needing my second bathroom. Someone even commented on how clean and pretty my house was. And because I am annoyingly honest, I said, “Well, don’t open my bedroom door! I threw all my crap in there.”
And Michelle? I think she could see the fear in my eyes. She didn’t joke once about checking to see if my bed was made.
So, I have new goals. To get my house in good enough order to give people tours next time they come over. And to stop beating myself up when it’s not perfect.
And to show Michelle my closet.
Head on over to My Blessed Life to read other Friday Fails!