On Sunday night, the Hubs gently reminded me that we were going to be having guests over the next evening. I was sitting on the living room floor at our "diaper changing station", diaper in hand, trying to coax Bug over so I could change his sagging bottom. I looked around at our living room. From my point of view, I could see that there were smashed Goldfish over by the couch. Dried Play-Doh crumbs scattered here and there. A week's worth of crusty who-knows-what's under Bug's high chair. Ripped pieces of Bug's markered art work flung about the room. A disheveled pile of blankets. Jackets and shoes. Spilled dirt from the beautiful and fragrant hyacinth that was recently given to us and placed on an overly cluttered mantle. Important documents (probably bills long needing to be paid) piled up on the counter. Dirty dished stacked up by the sink. Shiny smears on the kitchen table, probably indicating spilled milk that didn't get wiped up. Toys...lots of them and all out of place. And I probably haven't counted everything!
I thought about all the work I would have to do the next morning to get this place ready for company, and my pregnant body groaned in protest. I had a sudden longing for a clean, beautiful, and orderly home that somehow would stay that way. I knew that would be impossible.
But...I began thinking...What if I had TWO homes. I could have one house to keep purely for visits from guests. And another house to live in and not worry about the messes. That would be PERFECT. I could go all domestic diva and actually have a style. Matching couch, curtains, dish towels, paint, and fresh flowers in a mod deco vase. Pricey and intriguing art on the walls. A wicker patio set on the deck. Large windows letting in natural lighting from our spacious yard (north facing, of course!) Don't forget the vacuum stripes on the floor, for that fresh and clean look. Oh, yes. That would be the house we would use for hosting guests. It would always be clean (because I would hire a maid or...because I wouldn't actually live there).
I would be perfectly fine living in the house that only gets vacuumed once a week (or less). I would be ok with throwing the dishes in the dishwasher only when we are down to having no more clean forks. I would not worry about the crumbs. The shoes don't ever have to go in the closet. As long as I never have to invite people to THAT house.
Now...if only I could afford it.