Come in, but don't expect to find
All dishes done, all floors ashine.
Observe the crumbs and toys galore.
The smudgy prints upon the door.
The little ones we shelter here
Don't thrive on a spotless atmosphere.
They're more inclined to disarray
And carefree even messy play.
Their needs are great, their patience small.
All day I'm at their beck and call.
It's Mommy come! Mommy see!
Wiggly worms and red scraped knee.
Painted pictures, blocks piled high.
My floors unshined, the days go by.
Some future day they'll flee this nest,
And I at last will have a rest!
Now you tell me which matters more,
A happy child or a polished floor?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
My friend over at Riverbend Ramblings, posted this poem on her blog this morning. I read it in a timely manner!
Lately, I have been feeling discouraged over my house. It's clean, but with three small children, it doesn't stay spotless. Not how *I* would like it to be anyway. This poem speaks so much of what my house is like, but I am so crabby that my house is like what this poem describes, that the crabbiness wears off on the kids. So, well, you know... "When Momma ain't happy, ain't no one happy!"
So this was encouragement to me, I believe from the Lord, to worry about having happy children, rather than my polished floor.
Of course, I don't want to live in filth, lol! But perfection can wait. ;-)