“Calgon, take me away!” Remember that commercial? A woman at home surrounded in chaos, belts out her cries for relief. Suddenly, she’s relaxing in an endless bubble bath in solitude.

How incredible that would be to have relaxation and solitude from just four magical words. Unfortunatley, that isn’t reality. I tried it this morning … nothing happened.

Worries abound. Stress consumes. Deadlines nag. Kids get sick. And solitude evaporates quicker than bath bubbles.

The best bet for getting in that type of relaxation is running a bath in the middle of the night, or locking ourselves in the bathroom when everyone is still awake. Granted, the kids pounding on the door asking what’s for dinner would interrupt the rejuvenation we’re looking for.

My daughter bought me a bathtub pillow last year for Mother’s Day. I regretfully admit I’ve used it only a small handful of times. But my intention would have been to wear it out before the next holiday …

How does a mom replenish?

A few nights ago, my daughter was coughing relentlessly, my husband was snoring, and the dog made noises as he dreamt. Who was awake? Me. I attempted to give my daughter more cough medicine, but she was sound asleep. I rolled my husband over, but it only temporarily helped. The dog … well apparently his dream couldn’t be interrupted either. I desperately needed sleep, but that wasn’t looking too promising.

So I decided to replenish another way … I grabbed a book and my book lamp, and crawled under the covers like a child pretending to go to sleep. I engrossed myself into the storyline and characters and the noises surrounding me faded in the distance. Suddenly I was in Finland with the characters experiencing their adventures with excitement as they did.

Bubbles didn’t overflow the bed that night, but renewal spilled all over.

If we go on empty too long, our patience and understanding disappear along with the bath bubbles. So let’s get creative moms — revive yourself where you can!

I’m not a procrastinator or a slob. I like order and I’m organized too. But one thing I can’t stand … HOUSEWORK! It should be labeled in the dictionary as part of the foul language department.

We’re remodeling our daughter’s room and so our home is in a bit of disarray. As I walked past her temporary bedroom overtaking the family room, I sighed. Then I read my quote for the day this morning …

Housework, when done correctly, can kill you. – Anonymous

I agree!! Hands-and-knees floor scrubbing should be outlawed. Stickiness that seems to find its home on cupboards above the stove should be banned. Hang-up clothes should know how to be self-sufficient.

As I twirled in my mental vetoing of housework this morning, I found a few more sayings to toss in my bandwagon.

Beware! This home protected by killer dust bunnies!

Dusting Test in progress. Do not disturb samples.

I’m not going to vacuum ’til Sears makes one you can ride on!

My house was perfectly clean last week. Sorry you missed it!

Show me a house that’s excruciatingly clean, and I’ll show you an older, female relative about to visit it.

Do you ever find that when unexpected company shows up, your house looks like a tornado hit it? How many times do you walk into someone’s home and they quickly say, “Sorry my house is such a mess.“ I usually reply with, “You haven’t seen mine.” It seems to be something we’re concerned with, yet does it really matter? I mean really, does our IQ dwindle by the quantity of dust bunnies in our home?

I’m not advocating filthy, germ-infected homes. The 3-second rule would be a little more of a problem then. I’m talking about self-worth. Who we are, regardless of killer dust bunnies. We are wonderfully made, regardless if company shows up when the laundry is unfolded piled on the couch, chair, floor, and anywhere else 3-weeks worth of laundry can go. We are to show love and acceptance to one another, regardless if they are neat freaks or pack rats. We are God’s creations and He doesn’t make junk! And most importantly, God doesn’t base his acceptance of us on our housecleaning abilities. Whew!

So it’s okay to have a cleaning-free day. Go ahead … relax, read a book, go for a walk, or take extra time with the kids today. One thing is for sure — housework will be there tomorrow!

It’s Spring Break. Before my daughter entered school, it was just another week in March. Now it’s so much more. Extra time together as a family. Mornings to sleep in. The marker of one more quarter remaining in the school year. By the sheer nature of the title, it’s a taste of winter vanishing and the new season beginning.

Lifeless barren twigs resting all winter, show signs of new growth. The brown remnants of last year’s perennials melt into the dirt, but below new life pushes through. A pruned rose bush resembling lanky toothpicks plunged into the ground is decorated with buds waiting for their moment to say hello.

Springtime: it’s a promise of renewal.

For me, spring is energizing. Life is full of excitement, challenges, and opportunities for growth. But winter has a tendency to overstay its welcome. Ever felt like that? Prolonged difficulty. Unknown direction. Unanswered prayers. Overwhelming circumstances. Never-ending schedules.

I’m one who likes to check off items on my To-Do list and bask in my sense of accomplishment. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always afford that luxury and parenting isn’t so neat and tidy either. Parenting is the greatest challenge and most fulfilling position I could ever imagine. But often our instructions feel like the uninvited guest who lingers when our repetitions playback like a recording.

Listen!

I didn’t hear, “excuse me.”

No, you cannot wear sandals in the winter … it’s freezing cold.

Don’t be surprised and complain over doing chores … you know it’s a weekly event.

I asked you to go clean your room, not go play.

Play nicely with others.

Don’t interrupt me when I am on the phone.

Yes, parenting can feel like a long winter at times. But there is hope!! Spring is coming. Underneath all the struggle, the god-given beauty is germinating its new growth. It just hasn’t come out yet to greet us, but it’s in there …

Think about it–did we learn the first time around? I know I didn’t. My mother’s continual reference to my bedroom floor’s carpet being multi-colored from all the clothes was a drab winter for her I’m sure. But somewhere along the way, spring showed up. Today, our bedroom carpet is only one color.

Throw out the To-Do list. Just take each day as it comes. Spring will come.