Pink Gloves and Blue Sponges

Mommy guilt. I feel it weighing constantly on my heart like a thick fog that clouds my judgement on everything I do. If I clean the house I feel the guilt for not playing with the children. While I play with the children I look around the house in its discombobulated state and feel guilt for not taking care of the house better for my husband and children. When I play with Emma during Calvin’s nap I feel guilt for not playing with Calvin more. When I play with Calvin during Emma’s nap I feel guilt that I don’t play with him more. I feel guilt that I do not have enough one on one time with Calvin and will never be as close to him as I am to Emma. I feel guilt that I don’t fret over him the way I did with Emma. I feel guilt that we do not buy him as many things as we did for Emma. I know that all of this is weird and crazy but it is my burden of Mommy Guilt and it is my cross to bear. However when I was folding laundry at 5:00 this morning before work, I had a thought cross my mind that almost seemed like a ray of hope in my cave of guilt: perhaps housecleaning is good for the kids. I know that sounds weird. I always feel bad when I am cleaning and letting Emma play on her own and Calvin just lays there giving me the evil eye for not holding him. After all cleaning doesn’t include me teaching them anything or loving on them or anything. But maybe it does. Maybe it teaches Emma how to care for her household when she is married with children. Maybe it teaches my children the value of taking care of their things and to take pride in their home. Maybe it teaches Calvin to seek a wife that will take care of his home and his children. Yes maybe just maybe cleaning does teach my children something (aside from teaching colors, as I found when Emma pulled a pair of my panties out of the dryer and said “orange”…yes honey those are orange). Crap, now I have to find a new reason to put off cleaning.