We decided to do some remodeling and are going to have new hardwood floors installed [good bye ugly carpet and white and navy tile!] So, the guys dropped off the wood so it could get acclimated to the house. Prior to this, my Saturday morning consisted of some long ranting about how dirty and dusty the house is. [some people have said that our home is far from dirty, however, I admit I have some serious issues with over-doing it on the house cleaning. I will also admit after I have cleaned often the smell of bleach will linger off of my hands for days. I have issues, I know] Anyone who has lived with me knows that a glass in the sink, a dust ball in the corner of a floor, dog hair on carpet or anywhere things are out of place can set me into a spiralling furry of misery. I become another person with an overwhelming need to clean. I can't explain how happy I am when I know everything is in it's place and I can sit back and enjoy my home.
Ok, enough about that nonsense [that's me avoiding further discussion about my cleaning habits] and on to the wood. So, I was in one of those frenzies this weekend and after scrubbing the house I moved onto putting clothes away which lead to pulling clothes out of my youngest son's room, clothes that he could no longer fit in and filling a bag to give these clothes away when my oldest son came in with the look of either just having done something horrible, or witnessing something horrible. He looked at me with a smirk, then carefully did not make eye contact and said "did you see the mess down there?" My response was "I can't look! Wait how bad is it? Are they ripping things apart?" Then he quietly said "you will have to look for yourself". And so I finished putting the clothes in the bag [another issue---I can't leave anything unfinished] I marched down the stairs and looked in the living room. There in a neat pile off to the side sat about 20 boxes of wood. [what the heck was this boy talking about?] There really wasn't a mess. There were a lot of boxes in our living room, but far from a mess. And it hit me, just like a wooden board to the head, I AM INSANE! Everyone was fearful of my response to these boards. Everyone was worried I would have a melt down over some boxes piled in our living room. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? There are definitely worst things in this world, only thing here is that my family felt that to me this would be the worst thing in the world.
I face challenges daily, I assist others with challenges they face daily, I care a lot about the outcome of how these challenges are handled, and I certainly do not see boxes of wood as a challenge. Yet, others see me caring about these boxes, A LOT!! And so, it makes me wonder how I am perceived in this world? And does it matter?
Well, yes it matters. Where does it leave me? Not yelling about wood in my living room, not freaking about the glass left in the sink, not yelling that my laundry doesn't just jump into drawers after it's been washed and folded. It leaves me feeling a bit ashamed and willing to change. [just a little] I will refrain from the screaming not the cleaning. I realize it is my issue not my families. And maybe I will try to approach some other things this way, actually when you think about it most things that make us upset come from some sort of idea in OUR own minds that things should be a certain way. If you really take a look at some recent disagreements or recent disputes it does make sense. Not to say that we should allow unfair or unjust things to occur and we need to compromise our values, we just may need to realize that we see certain things from a specific perspective and that perspective may not be the same as others. And that is ok. That is what makes us, well us.
As I attempt to say goodbye to that mean lady who visits approximately once [ok or 3 or 5 times] a week, I will learn to whistle while I work or do it when no one is home!