Is this really where I wanted to be?

I have to say, I had a major enlightened moment yesterday.

I stood in my kitchen.

Filth on the floor. 

Days of dishes piled in my sink. 

Infant in my arms.

I know I must have had a peculiar look upon my face, as my oldest son came into the room and asked "What?" I shook my head, with tears in my eyes and said "I didn't think I would be doing this still at 45."

I am not sure what I wanted to be doing at this point in my life. I have never been good at dreams and fantasizing. I just want to move along and be happy with what I have. I want to love my family and have them love me in return. I want to help others to the best that I can. 

And, really, I was standing there in the kitchen with my grandson, whom I love dearly and in return shines light in my life. The floor and dishes were dirty because I have been tending to the needs of my family, helping them in any way I know how. So, I was in fact doing what should have made me happy. 

But, I wasn't. I know that somewhere in my mind I want a home that is clean, and that I can maintain that way. I want to be able to cook dinner and make yummy things without having to do dishes that are from days ago. 

I may not know how to move toward that goal. I take tiny steps forward, but it seems the steps backward are HUGE.  I know routines are best, but my life right now is fluid. The others in my world don't want to be in this environment either. It is clear by their desire to hide in their rooms or disappear to other family members homes. I HEAR people tell me that there SHOULD be more help, and that I am not tough enough. But, I also recognize that I sit and procrastinate as well. Tiny steps.... each one might lead me closer to the answer I seek.

Wait just a minute.....

The internet can occasionally help. I searched "kitchen filth". This photo reminded me of the sink in my first apartment, when I was 18. My sinks do not look that way anymore! Not by a longshot. Nor do I have spider webs dangling over the sink to help with the flies. That was around 25. The dishes, as it turns out, were quickly washed and the counters cleaned in minutes, not hours as I feared standing there. The floor, well that is an endless battle that does require a bit of a 'crucial conversation' with a loved one or two. It is so much easier to keep clean when there is not quite so much stuff not put away.

I guess the HUGE steps were not as big as I thought. 

I write now, and a smile is on my face. At 45, I spent the morning with that same infant playing at the kitchen table and singing and laughing and having fun. You can read about that on my blog about how  "This Grandma's Got It".