Clothes Mountain

This morning I noticed that our laundry pile is getting pretty high. It’s usually in a basket, but both baskets are housing clean folded clothes.

Our apartment could use a vacuum. I could dust, too.
One may argue that as a stay at home mom, this just shouldn’t be. My tiny apartment should be immaculate. I should have a spotless kitchen and my closet should be organized.

What else can I possibly have to do?

I’m here to tell you I don’t care. I don’t care about clothes mountain. It will get washed eventually when both full baskets are void of underwear or socks. By the time we’re finished digging through the clean clothes any resemblance of folding will be gone.

I’ve spent this sweet week of summer with tummy time, watching my sweet girl explore new things from a different angle

We’ve gone on daily walks. Girl likes to look at everything and says “oooh!” a lot as we are strolling around.
We’ve had mommy and me lunches in the mall. She sits on my lap and grins that gummy grin as the people walk by. She makes everyone smile. But when the phone shows her picture while I’m snapping a baby selfie, she looks like this.

She’s starting to watch every bite travel from my plate to my mouth. Feeding her real food is coming up in a few months.

When Matt is off, we spend time outdoors with her. She seems to love it. She’s the most calm outside.

I guess because there are so many things to see and so many new sounds.
We have laughed this week when she broke out of her swaddle and we woke up to find this

Nothing can keep our baby from that thumb lately. Not even industrial strength Velcro.
We’ve cuddled in bed and counted her little fat rolls, because they won’t always be there.

And I’ve even slipped away while Quinn and Daddy had a nap for some much needed pool time

Drinking icy cold beer from the mug I crunched ice chips out of after I had Quinn.

Hey mama’s need breaks, too!

I’m writing all of this because of the pressure that stay at home moms (and even just stay at home wives) feel to be perfect and have everything in tip top shape at all times.

It’s crap.

Clothes mountain isn’t an indication that I’m not doing my job.

It means I AM.