Well...our house has been one of chaos and clutter. For a while there it seemed that every where we'd look there was a pile of this and that and a whole lot more. In short, our house was an absolute wreck and well, ummm, completely Disgusting! Basically it was 4 months worth of cleaning that needed to be done (pregnancy yuck can do that to a house :)

So this last week I felt good enough that I became fed up and felt a large amount of motivation and disgusted determination to get things back in order and even better than they were before the joys of pregnancy arrived. Along with my pure motivation of disgust, my Mother-in-law was coming over to watch our little boy last weekend and thus a second motivation to pull it all together.

I was like a robot cleaning from room to room, closet to cupboard, laundry load after load, vacuuming every crevice of our house, and tackling the most putrid refrigerator I'd ever seen.

As all of this took place my two year old was really quite a good boy. He was my little helper on many tasks and actually played solo in his playroom when I asked him to, which is a rare occurrence. The week was exhausting to say the least and my back, hips, and legs ached due to pregnancy. It was a long but very rewarding week.

The putrid refrigerator that I tackled was near the end of our week of cleaning madness. My little boy was loving it. I had him take out all of the condiments from the door shelves and put them on the table. Meanwhile I emptied out the items from rest of the fridge and added them to the table. Then the process of removing and scrubbing drawers and shelves began. I had to hold my breath and plug my nose on several occasions (a pregnant momma's nose can be like a super-sense). I was working hard and my little man seemed content doing whatever it was that he was doing and it was then that I witnessed the happenings...A gallon of milk tipped over chugging out in gulps onto the table consuming every ounce of good food in it's path. I managed to scramble to the table and wisk the remaining milk up just in time to save the third of a gallon that remained. It was a mess. I tried to fetch this food and that..snatching the barely covered produce first and then the rest. The table, the underside of each food item, and the floor were covered in the white wonderfulness of a toddler's mischeivious acts.

I, in that moment, remained calm and collected with not a harsh tone in my voice. I gave my son a hug and asked him to help me clean up. Oh, I wish that my good side would've shone through in that moment but the fatigue of a weeks worth of toiling and the frustration of an added "opportunity" to scrub brought out less than the best in me and I said in a harsh tone, "Go to timeout, now!" I couldn't even bring myself to take him there. He walked away and then walked back again and I again said, "You go to timeout! You can't spill milk!" He left for a few minutes while I tried to gather myself and salvage the milk covered items and then it happened. I was taught. I was taught well. I was taught well by my two year old boy who came in singing in his sweet, sweet voice one of his favorite Hymns.

"Carry On, Carry On, Carry On", he sang loud and clear. I hugged him, apologized, and chuckled at his perfect timing and his perfect message. We then proceded to clean up the milk together and enjoyed watching the milk race up the paper towels. I carried on through the rest of the week and we finished our task.

I will forever remember the lesson of my two year old and try to take it to heart. Now just a few days later after an hour and a half battling with a nap time with no binkie what more can I do but remember the lesson of my two year old that I must, "Carry On!"
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