ordering our lives

photo credit I’m finding a new rhythm to my house life, mom life, wife life. I’m finally doing things consciously in the right order. It was 8:32pm. The three youngest are all asleep and as I crept past their rooms, checking on their night lights and blanket situations, I felt it. That siren call of my sewing machine. DO NOT GO DOWNSTAIRS. COME UP! My husband slipped out the back door with our oldest for some night baseball hits at the local park. They waved and I doused them in bug spray on their way out. I had not answered my sewing machine’s call. I had trekked down the stairs, pausing to pick up ten thousand items of dirty clothing, two CDs whose scratches had deepened, and shutting off light switches here and everywhere. I was determined to take the ten minutes of wiping counters and arranging dishes in the dishwasher before heading back up up to the machine and my luscious fabrics. It took twelve minutes, but the peace of mind I experienced with each soggy granola bowl rinsed and stacked was worth it. You see, I’ve spent years indulging my blogging, sewing, writing, texting, scrolling, calling, and venting. All before doing what needs to be done. I supposed the Sisyphean task of having small kids #forever meant for me if I stopped to do a dish, I would have to scrub the kitchen floor and I would NEVER GET A MOMENT FOR ME. Instead I carved habit after habit, year after…