Our house isn’t messy… A baby lives here

Walk into our home and it is obvious that it is no longer a home just for two. A baby themed tornado has ripped through our house, it is no longer neat and orderly, chaos moved in about eight months ago.

I won’t completely blame the baby, he can’t possibly put away the piles of washing stacked against the steps leading into the dining room, he just creates 80% of it. The clothes horse hasn’t been put back to its usual spot in weeks. It stays loaded with a rotating assortment of clothes, slowly making their way to the next stage of their post wash life, the folded piles on the steps. They will get put away within the next day or so, either when I get a spare five minutes or get sick of rummaging through them for a clean bib, whichever comes first, most likely the latter. 

Our dining table, a beautiful long timber slab which we bought as a statement piece, can hardly be seen under all the ‘pram ready’ objects on it. The nappy bag, fully packed ready to go, blankets, jumpers and toys all waiting to be picked up on our way out the door. 

Make your way past the dining room and you will find yourself in the kitchen, a room which I used to consider as my own, has now been converted into an obstacle course. Tupperware containers filled with pasta and plastic utensils, items of distraction, line the floor randomly as I now have a little helper whenever I decide to cook something.

There is a trail of blocks from the kitchen to the lounge, hidden perfectly for unsuspecting parents to discover their evil and pointy edges with their feet. Then, once you reach the lounge you see it, the toysplosion, soft toys are sprawled all over the carpet looking like a vicious crime scene. Books that I have stacked, restacked and stacked again are spread over my son’s play mat. And everything that usually lives on the couch is now on the floor as they needed to be investigated by my son. Somewhere amongst all this will be my son, moving from toy to toy with short breaks of furniture climbing. 
He is a happy, inquisitive little boy and the state of our lounge room shows it. Every night after I put him to bed in his ironically tidy room I pick up the toys and stack the books. I straighten his play mat and the room looks tidy for the first time since 7am, ready for another day of adventurous demolition tomorrow. 
Our house is clean, don’t get me wrong, there is a definite difference between dirty and baby themed chaos. If you came to visit us I would probably pick up all the toys or at least have his bookshelf stacked, but as I become a more experienced mother I am becoming less phased by the little messes and more concerned with the big ones.
I used to worry what people would think if they came over and my house was out of order, now I know it’s all a normal part of having an extremely busy and active baby. I know the worst is yet to come, I know with boys, mess turns to dirt and toys turn to balls that break things. I know it will be years before I tidy my home at the start of the day and it stays like that all day, that’s ok by me, our old clean and tidy home was boring anyway.


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