My house is a mess

I woke up this morning late.  Actually, I woke up early, but refused to get out of bed.  By the time I wandered out of my bedroom, my entire living room had been turned into a giant barbie house.  With blocks and trucks and blankets and assorted other figurines.  The entire living room.  As I glance in there, one couch has a blanket, huge stuffed cupcake pillow and a unicorn pillow pet.  The chair next to it has "big fat Dora" as she's known around here, and the stuffed baby sister bear.  The other couch has three pillows, a blanket, and a bunch of plastic food on it.  And the tables and floor are littered with giant cardboard boxes and there are hats and figurines and baby dolls all over the floor.  The dining room is borderline better, but the dining room table was apparently being used as a bunker, because there are toy guns and swords and a plastic hatchet underneath it and on the benches.  The kitchen is clean, kind of - because I had loaded the dishwasher last night, but there are remnants from the kids getting breakfast this morning scattered all over the place.  The bedrooms are just... disasters.  Sam's isn't as bad (because the bunker was in the dining room) and could probably be straightened out quickly enough, but the girls room is beyond words.  In order to find clothes, Jessie still believes firmly that the best and most efficient way to do it is to take all of her clothes out of her dresser, throw them up the air, and wear whatever falls closest to her.  At least I'm assuming that's what she does, because there's no other logical explanation.

I keep reminding myself that it won't always be like this.  That one day, all of the children will be grown up, and the house will be clean and pretty and lovely.  I'll have scented candles that don't get used for kitchen games, and pretty vases filled with little glass rocks and gorgeous flowers.  I'll have furniture that hasn't been peed on and spilled on and taken apart and jumped on for years.  I'll have bookcases filled with my books, and all of my ponytail elastics won't be in the barbie bin, as they are right now.  One day, I'll wake up, wander out of my bedroom, pour myself some coffee and sit in my pretty living room, pick up my book that's right where I left it the night before and think back on this.  I think I might miss it.  But not positive.  I might just be incredibly grateful that it was wonderful and great, having five healthy, gorgeous, creative children growing up in my house.  And be glad that I can walk without tripping over an army guy, or a doctor kit.  I think I'll pour myself another cup of coffee, on that mythical day far into the future, and just smile.   Because it is great and wonderful - and it's not going to last forever.  Someday, my house will be clean.   And I will never stop appreciating it.