Messy…

Life is messy. It’s full of ups and downs, dirty laundry in piles and clean laundry in baskets. There are tears and shouts and hugs and kisses. There are bath times with children that end in puddles of water and sopping wet towels. There’s wiping up paint drips even when you’re being careful.  When you have a baby there are messy diapers and that wonderful new baby and powder smell afterward. Temper tantrums at any age may be followed by tense silence and eventually a coming together. Kitchens will often be the scene of chaos during the cooking of a big, family meal. In comparison it’s shiny after everything is sorted, washed, and put away. Messy can be things or sounds. Crying, yelling, hugs, and soft murmurs of love.

This morning as I was making my tea, I looked around and saw neat and tidy. My kitchen tins are on a shelf in my tea area and stand neatly side by side. As I take my tea in to the living room to sit and write with the news on in the background, I see everything in its place, as I left it last night. There are a couple of blankets on the couch for the dog. I cleaned after taking down the Christmas decorations and tree. So, for a short period of time everything is sparkling. That will go downhill quickly, as it always does during a work week.

It doesn’t matter how neat, tidy, organized you are, mess will always find you. It’s part of the human condition. It’s why we need tissues and toilet paper. It’s why we have brooms and mops. Mess just is. When I’m looking at it from the point of view of getting older, I think I’m striving to have less mess in my life. I have an older friend and a life without disruptions, without turmoil is ideal. Looking at my mom who is a little older than me, it seems to me that messy is where the stress lies. I think it’s the same with my uncle who is a little older than my mom and has a very organized approach to life. You cannot make him budge from that approach most of the time.

Looking at myself, I can see how I’ve become more drawn to the “tidy” as I’ve aged. As a kid I had no problem with an unmade bed or books and toys strewn across my floor. Now, I make the bed every morning and strive to keep my living areas neat. Is that an aging thing? Am I just getting better at certain things? When my son was young I was just happy to have clean clothes to wear and clean dishes to eat from. My house was far from perfect, and as I look back, I realize that I was okay with it. We were busy and my bigger concerns were that my boy was taken care of, and my bills were paid. I was never the person who idolized her car. It was a tool to get us where we needed to go. I didn’t polish it and vacuum it each weekend. I put gas in it and tried to keep it presentable. That’s what worked for me then. Now, I’m still not polishing and vacuuming every weekend, but I do prefer to keep it clean and to limit things like food.

Is this a by-product of growing older? I don’t have any statistics on it, but I would hazard a guess that generally we grow to appreciate a neat environment. As our children grow up and move out, we find a new comfort that doesn’t include the disorder of young children. And I think that carries over into other areas of our lives. We become less interested in drama and craziness. You often hear about rubber-neckers who are busy watching the drama unfold. My own experience is that the older I get, the less interest I have. I feel like it’s because I don’t care for the mess that it brings. I like the peace of order. It’s easier on me overall.

What have I learned this week? There are elements of growing older that I like. Being tidy, neat, ordered, organized, all work for me. The older I get, the more I appreciate an environment without the noise that drama and chaos brings. It’s okay in small doses, like a big family dinner, but I’m awfully happy when it’s over and I’m back in my place.

I’m adding an extra paragraph to this blog. I am writing this blog immediately after finishing my last one, which is not my normal timeline. I’m doing so because I have a difficult week coming up and I don’t believe I’ll be able to write next weekend. This week we are saying goodbye to our pup of almost 15 years. Guilt is another element of life that is messy. It interferes with clear thought, while pushing negative thoughts into your head and heart. I want what’s right for our pup out of love and concern. I do not want him to suffer, and yet, I fear making a decision based on my own convenience. That’s guilt. This is a terrible feeling that so many pet owners have to go through. It’s messy. Pets don’t take care of themselves. They rely on their owners to make sure they get outside, are fed and watered, get exercise, and proper health care. So, when it’s coming close to the end, life can get messy. In this case, I don’t think the messiness is something to avoid. It’s a terrible time but it’s one that you take on when you choose to be a pet owner. You have the responsibility to make the right decision at the right time. I’m thankful for a really good vet and vet assistants who are helping me through. I’m also very grateful for the unconditional love and companionship that was his gift to us throughout the years.

Before dawn of a difficult day and still there is beauty to behold.

On the morning after a difficult day, fresh snow makes the world so pretty. Final puppy dog prints from his last trip to the tree brings sadness along with love.

This year I’m doing a few things for me. This winter I’m taking a ladies night riding course. Talk about leaping out of my comfort zone with both feet!