Marbles

I get depressed. Easily. A lot. For no reason whatsoever. I have absolutely nothing to be depressed about. I think part of it is that if I don't do something I had planned on doing, I get upset with myself and then I start beating myself up. For instance:

I wanted to have our spare bedroom/junk room/laundry room/scrapbook room completely cleaned out on Monday so that we could sand the floors in there. I didn't get it done on Monday.

Or Tuesday.

Or Wednesday.

You're getting it, right? It's Friday and it's still not completely cleaned out. I don't want you to imagine a room filled to the ceiling with crap, 'cause that's not the case. But there is quite a lot of stuff in there. And I don't want to just throw it in another room and clutter it up. I'm actually going through the stuff and either tossing it or just putting it where it should have been in the first place. Man, if only I'd done that in the beginning. Geesh.

Anyway, so when I don't get something done that I wanted to get done, I don't do anything else. It's really bad.

So, my house has suffered for it. So, that means my husband has suffered for it. He's not a clean freak or anything but every man loves and deserves to come home to a clean home. Yes, deserves.

And since my sister-in-law reads my blog, I hate that she sees how her brother has come home to a cluttery home the last few nights. She's known me 10 years now, so I hope she's realized that in that amount of time I have grown up somewhat. It used to be that I didn't even realize I was in a funk like this. My house was just messy. Always. Always.

Josh would invite people to come over just so I would have to clean the house. Ohhh I'd be so mad.

I would load all my dirty dishes up (that had been accumulating all week) into a rubbermaid box, take them to my SIL's house across town, run them thru her dishwasher, wait for them to wash, take 'em out, dry 'em, load 'em back up, go home and they'd sit in that tub for a little bit til I felt like putting them away.

Yes, I used to do that.

I have grown. I'm much better than that now. So, when I get down on myself for letting my house go to pot for a couple of days, I need to remember how I used to be and praise the Lord for changing me and growing me.

I'm a work in progress.

Last night, he could tell I was in one of my moods. So, he went around the house and did the things I should have done. He did it with such a merry heart. He was happy to help me.

It took him all of 20 minutes. That's all it would have/could have taken me.

I'm going to do better next week. I'm not going to be down about it anymore today.

Thanks for letting me vent. Not that you had a choice in the matter. But it feels good to just get it out there. I don't want people to think I don't know that my house is a cluttered mess at the moment. I wouldn't want you to come here and think that's just how it is here. 'Cause it's not. I like a clean house. I like to clean my house. I enjoy it. But sometimes I think I bite off more than I can chew. Or, I plan more than is possible for a girl with an 18 month old to get done in a day.

I just have a day or 12 here and there where I lose my marbles and Josh has to go pick them up for me.

Thank You, Lord for this man You've blessed me with. He's the best marble picker upper ever.