Move Over Martha

I’m not that adept at being domestic.  Martha Stewart I am not.  But I have been cooped up in the house for almost a week with sick kids.  Plus, it’s fall and I always feel kind of domestic as the weather turns colder.  So, I figured that I should do some stuff around the house since I couldn’t ignore it any longer. 

 

I cleaned my room.  My whole room.  I moved my dresser all by myself and vacuumed all the crevices.  I organized my closet.  OK, so it’s not MY room, I  share the room with Mike.  And I mainly cleaned it because I thought we were having overnight guests stay there.  They didn’t come since we had sickness.  I still finished cleaning our room anyway.  I know, amazing.

That’s not a pile of clothes on the bed, it’s my daughter.  Also, notice how beautifully my team of decorators have decorated the walls.  I would have it no other way.

 

Then I baked a fancy Cinnamon Apple Cheesecake.  Seriously, there are chopped walnuts and oats in the crust.  I’ve had the recipe clipped since 2006 so I thought it was high time I try it.  It was fabulous.  Next time you have 36 free hours, you should totally make it.  I decided I should take a picture of it.  I happened to have some apples laying around that I didn’t put away.  So I threw them in for effect. 

 

Then I put in some more apples that I had picked off an apple tree.  Too much?

 

 

Then I decided to clean the kitchen.  I bleached the counter tops.  I scrubbed the stove top.  I lit a candle. While I was cleaning under the colander with the garden potatoes I didn’t use the other night and never put away, I started throwing other random produce in there too so I could wipe the counters.  Mike came home and said he liked my basket.  Accidental Martha.

I rearranged the pantry.  I wanted to get my beloved Crockpot off the counter.  Mostly because I’ve been threatened that I need to make something that is not all mushed together.  So we’re having tacos and spaghetti this week.  I even cleaned out the play dough box before I put it away.  Yes, I put it away.

I went to bed pleased.  Clean room, clean kitchen, most of the laundry done.  So please tell me how on earth did my kitchen end up looking like this in the morning?

 

And sometimes this is why I give up.  I also lost our cell phone, again.  So don’t try to call.

Because I’m not that creative and the domestic stuff doesn’t come naturally to me I don’t feel like a very good Mom.  But I still want to provide a home for my family.  A place they like to come home to. A refuge from the world.  A place they feel safe, loved and warm.  A place they want to bring their friends to.

 

The other night, Mike showed up with a 16 year old visitor for dinner.  He hasn’t had homemade food in a long time.  He is not able to  live with his mom.  He relished sitting at our table and eating a lot of food (when he wasn’t busy texting). 

 

So I continue to press on.  Even if I have to be an accidental or red-neck Martha, I still want to make my house a home.  And that does not come from the craftiness of my hands or the cleanness of my house, it comes from the love in my heart.