Come As You Are, To My House As It Is

On an evening not too long ago, I looked at my calendar and realized that a friend who I hadn’t spent a ton of time with was scheduled to come over the following morning. I looked around my house in dismay, too tired to pick up or wipe off one more thing. I quickly sent a text to warn her that my house would be in far from perfect condition when she came over. She assured me that she was actually relieved to hear that because she already has too many “perfect mom” friends.

So, just as promised, when she and her son arrived the next day, my floors were in desperate need of cleaning, a pile of dishes filled the sink {from the night before}, breakfast crumbs and spills still covered the table, and toys were strewn all over the floor. In my former life, I would’ve at least tidied up my house and I likely would’ve had some yummy biscotti or fresh fruit or something, anything to offer my friend to eat. But not these days. These days I’m just doing the best that I can. So, when she showed up, I welcomed her into my less than perfect home. I simply offered her a cup of tea and my presence. And just maybe that was enough. Maybe it was more than enough.

Because rather than a perfect looking home, maybe as moms, we’re more in search of a safe place to be honest about this wild ride that is motherhood.

Maybe more than lavender biscotti, we long for someone who will understand us – how in one moment we could feel tremendous love for our child and in the very next moment we want to rip our hair out in frustration because said child just dumped out the entire bin of dog food and started eating it. Again. Maybe we’re looking for that safe space in which to say, I love my child but I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a stay-at-home-mom. Or to wonder aloud in a judgment-free zone, is my child’s aggressive behavior an outlier, something I should be concerned about? I’m learning that hospitality is more about a welcoming, authentic space than it is about a perfect one.

As moms who are responsible for safe-keeping and guiding these tiny, uber-dependent humans, it is safe to say we have more important things to be concerned with than some crumbs on the table and dirty dishes in the sink {not that I don’t love a clean kitchen}. When my home isn’t in tip top shape, maybe it communicates, “my life isn’t perfect and neither am I, and you don’t need to be either.” So, come as you are, to my house as it is.

Imperfection is welcome here.