Hashtag: Where's Mark to Clean My House?

Oh, friends, I've had a crazy week! I started my new job (amazing) and went to my baby sister's bachelorette party (double amazing). What I didn't do was clean...or cook...or even pick my house up in the least. 

I've never been a great cleaner. Actually, let me rephrase. I'm a good cleaner but I've never been a very tidy person. I'm a little cluttered and create piles throughout the house of things to "put away" that tend to just sit there. I'm good at vacuuming. I'm good at deep cleaning. I just can't deal with the clutter. 

Now that I'm working a full time job, I'm out of the house from 730am to 630pm. Not only do I come home later than I'm used to but I'm also just exhausted. ((To be honest, I'm less tired than I was staying home but it's a different type of tired.)) So here's where you come in - HELP! What do you do to keep your house clean? Do you save all of the cleaning until Saturday? Do you do a little every night? 

I have to say though, I have the best husband. Seriously. I came home Sunday afternoon to a clean house and a terribly happy baby. He is so good to us.

Here's a fun picture from the weekend:

My sister, Emily (in the hat) and her bridesmaid, Marie (with the cute foot pop) riding in our sweet Cadillac golf cart!

Judgements

There's something I've worried about for years that I'm just realizing I've been wasting energy on.

My tattoos.

Being a tattooed mother.

Being judged in public with my child.

But guess what? 

I haven't experienced it yet.

I got my first tattoo at age 18. It was hidden on my back below my waistline so I knew my parents wouldn't see it. I've never been very good at hiding things from my mom though, this wave of guilt always washes over me leaving me sweaty and nauseous. The next morning I took her aside and softly said, 

 "I have to show you something."

I pulled up my shirt and revealed the inch long waves that formed the symbol of my zodiac sign. She was disappointed but glad I told her. My next tattoo went the same way. Got it on a whim, only revealed it later. 

I've wizened up though. I tell my parents of my upcoming ink and they're fine with them. In fact, my dad has been known to brag about how pretty they are. The only person in my family that I have a hard time sharing my tattoos with is my maternal grandma. She lamented for years about how I would look in a wedding dress. (I looked gorgeous, btw.) A month after our wedding I got a new tattoo and my grandma still hadn't seen it up until this past weekend. I was feeling brave so I wore a short sleeved shirt and the bottom of the tattoo peeked out of the bottom. It didn't go horribly but suffice it to say, she's not a fan.

I guess because I've been judged before due to my tattoos I assumed that it would only be worse now that I have a child. In all honesty, I haven't noticed a thing. I haven't caught any side eyed looks, any hushed whispering as I walk by or raised eyebrows. 

Here's my guess though - I'm too busy raising a child to notice judgement being passed. I no longer have the time or energy to care about what a stranger thinks about my body. My daughter is my main priority. She's the only thing that focuses and drives me. 

Or maybe people are stunned by my daughter's beauty to notice my tattoos. Probably that.

Photo by the amazing Rebecca Dever. Also, no makeup. And minus one tattoo.

Christmas Miracle

My bridesmaids and I were summoned from our relaxing spot we were hiding before the ceremony started. They looked me over, one last time, before lining up in the order rehearsed the night before. Ian held June and planned to walk my mom down the aisle before standing in line between the best man and other groomsmen. June was very unhappy. Her tears unnerved me and I tried to focus and center myself. When Ian and my mom walked through the doors to the church, June quieted and looked at the Christmas lights in awe. She remained silent for the rest of the ceremony.

The signal was given for Emily, one of two maids of honor, to begin walking. I strained to hear the guitarist playing. Instead I only heard the echo of heels in the historic chapel. A slight panic started to rise. I looked at my dad, he looked at me and shrugged. I looked inside the church and made eye contact with Thomas. He clearly understood my facial cues. The tiny gesture and small smile calmed me immediately. My father and I stepped into the doorway of the church to silence. As our family stood to watch me walk down the aisle they began to sing.

"Silent night holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin mother and child.
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Sleep in heavenly peace."

As they sang, I cried. Hysterical, ugly crying. The voices of our loved ones coming together to make sure I wasn't met with silence rang throughout the tiny building. When my dad and I reached the altar and the song came to an end, Norm asked who gave me to wed Thomas. My dad responded, "Her mother and I do." He lifted my veil, kissed me on the cheek and handed me off to Thomas. This was the beginning of our marriage, the sweet music of our family serenading us and claiming witness to our lifelong commitment. 

Photos by the AUH-MAZING Rebecca Dever. Please contact her for all your photo needs!