Let Sleeping Dust Bunnies Lie – Mommy Blogger

06/12/2017

My name is Amanda Braschuk. I’ve been married to my amazing husband Paul for 5 years, together for 8.  He works away from home which can make life a little crazy when I’m parenting solo.  My daughter Zoey is 2.5 years old, she is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.  My son Asher is one, he is incredibly handsome and really mischievous.  I also have two dogs who think they are human, which is only fair because in this house fur babies are family too! I’m a stay at home mom and very thankful for a husband who works extremely hard allowing me this time with our children.  Before kids I worked in the service industry for 17 years. I am friendly, enjoy meeting new people and I love talking (too much if you ask Paul). These characteristics kept me in the industry so long because it was constantly engaging. I also worked in accounting, timekeeping and administrative positions. I love reading, music and Mother Nature.  I am a daydreamer with an overactive imagination. I’m rather scared of everything.  My kids have made me stronger and they have made me brave.  If I can grow a human and conquer labour & delivery – what is left to fear? I’ve never written publically before but for years I have written poetry and kept journals – to myself.  I’m looking forward to sharing motherhood/parenting adventures with everyone.

Everything was so clean. Once upon a time I washed my floors on my hands and knees.  At floor level I cleaned baseboards, the bottom of my fridge and stove, registers, windowsills…you get the idea.  A bucket with a couple rags and a magic eraser – I made things shine! I didn’t own a mop until I was 7 months pregnant with my first child, my daughter Zoey. Doctors’ orders for me to ‘make things easier’ on myself initiated the mop purchase. It wasn’t a huge deal, the baby would be born soon and I could go back to handwashing my floors.  That was 3 years ago, I’ve used a mop ever since.

When my daughter was born I transformed how I cleaned around her schedule. When she napped, it was my time to make things shine again. Naps never lasted long enough to get it all done.  I accepted I would have to clean what I could, when I could and the world would keep turning.  I would clean one or two rooms while she napped, by the end of the week I usually had the entire house clean simply to turn around and start the process over again. It worked! My house was clean – not comparable to before kid standards but my house was clean. Then, she started crawling.

Nothing confirms how dirty your floors are until you have a tiny human duster sweeping through your home.  Mom guilt set in “her hands are dusty/crumby/dog hair covered” this is unacceptable.  I figured I could clean ‘around’ her while awake instead of only when she napped. I did, sometimes. Another guilt trip on myself “are clean windows worth the time I could have spent reading/singing/playing with her?” These amazing little humans have a wonderful way of turning everything upside down only to help you realize this is now right side up.  So, if she was playing cheerfully on her own, I would clean a bathroom or vacuum a rug, but if she want to read or dance or snuggle, we would. She was happy and it made me happy – even knowing the kitchen counters would have to wait another day, or two. The best part is the kitchen counters don’t care if they’re neglected.  The bathroom doesn’t cry if you ignore the toilet. My bed never complained the sheets weren’t being changed weekly and the china cabinet willingly embraced the dust as part of its entirety. My house was clean, not always as clean as I preferred but clean enough.

Zoey was 18 months old when my son Asher was born. My cleverly developed strategy to keep a clean house was thrown under the bus and run over by rush hour traffic. What I have learned is my house isn’t dirty, it’s messy.  It took me a long time to differentiate between the two. My house is lived in, really lived in.  I won’t reminisce years from now about the time I cleaned the fridge but I will remember my kids laughing and dancing while I sang. I’ll never cherish memories of dusting the way I will first words, messy mealtimes and playing peek-a-boo (even if for the 100^th time this morning). Floors will always get dirty, laundry will regularly need washing and dishes inevitably pile up.  My babies will never be this young again. Someday they won’t cheer for me while I sing off key. In the future a hug from me won’t solve every crisis they encounter. I know one day I will have more time to clean meaning I’ll have less time with them. Eventually everything will shine again.  Right now, the shine in their eyes during Paw Patrol cuddles, finger paint activities or another trip to the park trumps spotless mirrors and smudge free walls each and every time.