Children - A Crash Course in Chaos

           Bills, knick, knacks, pens, pencils, discarded shopping lists and coupons cover my kitchen island. Dishes are piled on the side of my sink, drying. On any given day, my sink is full of dirty dishes. The portrait windowsill in my kitchen contains water bottles, thermoses, and salt and pepper shakers. I enter my dining room only to find the girls’ art work strewn all over the table, as well as the pens they used to create said art. My living room floor contains the Barbie Pop-Up Camper, several dolls and the few accessories to the camper that the girls have managed not to lose. Shoes cover the entryway, as well as bags, and a basket overflowing with magazines. Taking a trip upstairs, I notice numerous Perler beads scattered around the playroom floor, the result of Lu’s upcoming business endeavors. Bins that should be neatly tucked away in the closet are haphazardly strewn around the playroom floor. Entering the girls’ room, I am greeted by last nights reading material on the floor and the looming shadow of the Barbie Dream House, which has several dolls thrown into it, the result of a hasty late night clean up. Looking at my house, no one would ever believe that I am actually a very organized individual.

            Children create chaos. I despise chaos. I like everything to have a place and a label. Having things organized calms the chaotic workings of my mind. A messy house causes me to crawl out of my skin and often insights rage. Chaos creates anxiety. Anxiety causes depression. Depression causes anger. Anger causes me to lose my shit with the girls regarding their inability to pick up as they go, their penchant for creating a mess, playing for 10 minutes then walking away, and their obstinate whining when privileges are revoked for not picking up.

            I have implemented numerous strategies in an attempt to get the girls to clean up. All seem to work temporarily, but none have persisted. The messes keep multiplying, the girls keep resisting. My anger keeps rising.

            It has become so frustrating that I don’t even want to clean my house because I know that the minute the girls arrive home from school clean will turn to dirty and the organization I work so hard to maintain will, within minutes, be completely undone. I constantly straddle the line between not giving a shit and grasping tightly to the notion of how I would like my house to appear.

            So what is the answer to my dilemma? How do I ease the anxiety, depression and anger without being a controlling neat freak? Right now, I just want to throw all the shit out!