I don’t know who came up with that term anyway! I’m married to my husband, not my house!

I love my home as much as the next gal I suppose, but I’m not going to obsess over it when every little detail isn’t, “just so.”  Okay… actually, I might, but I want to stop it.  Why? Because there is only so much time in a day, and because that house doesn’t adore me, but my husband does.  It doesn’t wait for me to come play with it or talk to it or hug it’s neck, but my kids do, and hopefully yours do as well.  It’s a sad thing when a woman’s children don’t want her around…

I’m going to spend more time looking at the people that matter and less time looking at the crushed Christmas cookie crumbs in the corner of the TV room.  I will be quicker to notice the opportunity to do Lite Brite with my child than a counter,  piled high with dishes and those ridiculous socks that forever need to be matched and put away, will just have to wait!

I know from experience, they will be there tomorrow…

Peace & Joy!